


illicit affairs

by mariiposie



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: F/M, cheating rina, maybe just maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariiposie/pseuds/mariiposie
Summary: in which, for the sake of the east high theatre department, ricky bowen and gina porter don't tell anybody that they're dating.not even ricky's girlfriend.
Relationships: Ricky Bowen & Gina Porter, Ricky Bowen/Gina Porter, Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts
Comments: 19
Kudos: 91





	1. part 1

Gina sat, warm under the covers on her bed, watching the bright shapes and figures of the television move rapidly within the bleariness of her vision. Finally, she felt close to falling asleep. Now -- she was just aimlessly waiting for the sweet release of unconsciousness to take a hold of her body.

Although, often at night, whilst very real figures danced upon the screen of the TV as she slept, figurative ones danced inside her mind, active and recognisable, dancing the same sweet waltz day in, day out. Just one moment in time, on repeat, one she was yet to experience herself yet one that felt so innately familiar to her.

The white silk of her curtains danced like twirling ribbons in the slight breeze emanating from the window, which she’d left ever so slightly ajar to allow the wind of the night to circulate its cooling touch around her room.

It was from this very same ajar window, one which led right onto the pitch blackness of Ashlyn’s front lawn, that no more than two minutes later (right at the point of no return, where her body had just about succumbed to the temptation of sleep) came the lightest of knocks against glass -- one she had heard many times before, of pebble striking against window. Though nothing more than a twinkle of noise in the night, she knew the weight of the message it carried, it was enough to completely encapsulate her attention, almost hypnotically so. And then -- before she even had a chance to rub the back of her hand against her clouded eyes, it was from that ajar window which came the faintest of melodies, carried into her presence upon the constant flow of cold night air.

The melody was one which she recognised easily, one with the same notes that had played on a relentless loop within her mind since she had first heard them -- since she’d watched his deep brown eyes so _intently_ , and he’d watched hers too, as though he’d finally _seen_ her, as though she was the only girl for him.

She hadn’t been.

Not at the time, and _especially_ not now. Not now that he was dating _her_. But upon once more hearing what she had hoped to hear for so long, even just one last time, was more than enough to tempt her drowsy body out of the cocoon of duvets and fleece blankets in which she was wrapped, and lure her to the open window like a melodic siren song.

And sure enough -- Ricky was there, stood looking up at her from the front lawn. Standing with a guitar in his hands, and a smile on his face that began to grow, almost exponentially so, when she stuck her head out of the window and, across the darkness, their eyes locked upon each other.

His fingers stilled on the strings, almost like his spirit had become completely and utterly entangled by her presence. There was something behind his eyes, something bewitching, like a flame she only ever saw when he was looking straight at her.

Something, maybe as simple as a gust of Autumn wind down the base of his spine broke his enrapture, bringing him back to the here and now. The reality where he was stood in front of Gina, bouncing on the balls of his feet and _anticipating_.

“I know that night, when you came back, you told me that I didn’t have to _say anything_ \--” He said, dragging out the words ‘say anything’. “Ricky, what are you --” She tilted her head at him, glancing from his eyes to the guitar he held firmly in his hands, and back. There was something almost… _familiar_ about the scene. Like she’d seen it in a film before. “Oh my God.”

Gina’s eyes widened in realisation. “Ricky, are you seriously Say Anything-ing me right now?”

[To Say Anything (Verb) -- To ‘Say Anything’ someone is the act of holding a boombox or other audio device outside the subject’s house and/or bedroom window, almost always in the hopes of winning their affections. Frequently referenced throughout pop culture history. In reference to the 1989 Cameron Crowe film.]

Ricky grinned widely as she watched him, and rapidly nodded his head. Gina sat upon her windowsill, one floor above from where he stood on the dewy evening grass, dangling her legs over the ledge as he began to play. As, once more, he sang her the same song he’d played to her that afternoon after rehearsals, the briefest of moments in time, one which now felt as though it was eons ago, like it was nothing more than a droplet within the expansive lake of memories that she held of East High.

Yet, almost curiously so, out of everything she’d experienced there, the ups and downs, the friends she’d allowed herself to make and the walls she had let crumble down, the moments she’d shared with Ricky were the ones that stood most prominent in her mind. Every glancing look they’d shared across crowded rooms. Every lingering touch. Out of everything, those fleeting moments in time were undoubtedly the ones she thought of most.

Even now, here, as she sat precariously perched in the window, and as Ricky watched her from Ashlyn’s front lawn, she listened to him just as intently as she had that first time she’d heard him sing it. She listened as though it was the very first time, as though she’d never heard the words before. Like she wanted to memorise the very infliction of the words. Like she wanted to take the words, write every single one out, and tattoo them upon her skin.

She watched as his eyes focused only on hers. He didn’t even have to glance down to watch the placement of his fingers on the chords he was playing. He was looking only at Gina.

When he’d finished and swung the guitar around so it sat flush against his back, Gina hurriedly clambered down the rose bush trellises that ruched up to her window, and she embraced him on the front lawn.

His arms wrapped around her waist and he lifted her into a hug, spinning her around in the air. “Are you sure?” She asked quietly into his ear. Because that was all that mattered to her. That he had chosen her because he _wanted_ to. Outside of the heat of the moment, outside of a seeming necessity to.

“Never have I ever been _so_ sure. He told her in response, as the cold skin of his hand lightly cupped her cheek, with a reaffirming touch. “I’ve never needed anything more.”

Then, once he’d placed her gently back down onto the grass, she nudged him gently with her elbow. “When we were watching it with your Dad, I thought I explicitly told you _not_ to Say Anything me?” Her other hand played with the silver ring that sat on his index finger on his left hand, more so out of habit than anything else.

He smiled into her lips as he pulled her into him. “I wasn’t going to, _but_ then I remembered what you’d said to me the night you came back. Everything you’ve ever said to me, I can remember it all. Clear as day.”

“That’s so cheesy. _You’re_ so cheesy.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him again, like it was the very first time, like it was fresh and it was the start of something new. Like she had to remind herself that this was real. That _he_ was real.

As she clambered back up to her window, Gina held her hand out for Ricky to grab, helping to heave him up and past the thicket of rose bushes that stood outside of the window of her room at Ashlyn’s. Then -- when they got into her room they stood there, still, for a moment as Ricky too waited, perched over the windowsill, his legs still resting on the trellis. It was like something from a long-ago fairytale, like she was Rapunzel and she had just let down her hair.

“So,” she sucked in a breath, taking a seat on her bed, “What are you doing to do about Nini?”

 _Nini._ The girl he was still very much dating. His _girlfriend._

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

She tilted her head at him, utterly unconvinced that he was willing to ever even broach the subject. She _knew_ Ricky. Rather than ever talking about a problem out loud, she knew how much he’d rather completely ignore it and just let it fester in the deepest well of his mind. “You don’t think dating the both of us at the same time is ‘coming to it’?”

Ricky dragged out another sigh, still stood upon the trellis just outside of her window, and leaning his head on the windowsill as he watched Gina. “Okay. _Maybe_ you’re right.”

“Just like always, Bowen.” She reminded him, resting her hands on the windowsill on either side of him, and daring to lean her face in to meet his.

“Yeah. That’s like, one of the things I love most about you.” He stood up, leaning into her to brush his lips against hers, but just as his lips threatened to meet hers, she spoke again.

“Don’t go all sweet on me now Bowen. We seriously need to sort out --” Then, she froze.

_Creak._

“Gi? What is it?” Ricky whispered, lightly taking a hold of her wrist in his hand. Gina’s free hand planted over his mouth, covering it before he could say any more.

She nodded her head, motioning behind her. Another loud creak of the floorboards. Somebody was walking around outside of her room.

Hurriedly, she shoved Ricky back down the trellis, ducking his head just beneath the wind, and just in time too. Because, as she swung back around from the open window, EJ’s face was looking back at her from the doorway.

“Whatcha doing?” He asked her, nonchalantly. Almost _too_ nonchalantly.

Maybe this was simply a symptom of the whole “having a relationship behind _everyone’s_ backs” thing. Or maybe he had heard something. She had to think on her toes.

“Uh, just -- you know --” In that mere moment of hesitation, Ricky’s cold hand fell into hers once more, squeezing it once before leaving something in its wake. She brought it to her face. “Just smelling the roses.” She casually twirled the crimson bloom Ricky had just passed her between her fingers.

_Quick thinking, Bowen._

“At 10 pm?”

Gina smiled, hiding any hint of reluctance in her voice. “...Yes.”

“Okay…” EJ nodded slowly, all whilst squinting at her suspiciously. “Cool, that’s grand, you do you. We could’ve sworn we heard voices though?”

“Uhm. Nope! Not me. Definitely, no voices coming from here. That was simply --” She paused again, to think of another excuse for what EJ had definitely very clearly heard. “What you heard was… well it was me talking to myself. Yes. That’s all that was happening here. Nothing else.”

_Damn it Gina. For someone who’d played the lead in more musicals than she could count, she sure was fluffing her lines the one time it actually counted towards something important._

“Right,” EJ said, still squinting at her. “Well… I’m gonna go, and I’m gonna leave you and the voices in your head to yourself.” He said and slowly backed out of the room, shutting the door tight behind him.

She spun back around to where Ricky had already stood back on top of the trellis, his hands on the windowsill propping himself up, and his nose was suddenly pressed to hers, with another of the red flowers in his hand. “Want another one?”

He gently brushed aside a loose curl, and tucked the stem of the flower behind her ear before closing the space between their lips once more, savouring like it was their very first.

She smiled into him. “You got lucky. But we do need to sort this out at some point. You can’t spend your _whole_ life running from your problems, Bowen.”

He shot a smile back at her, finally stepping down to clamber back down the side of Ashlyn’s house. “You know me too well.”

Before he could entirely release his grip on the windowsill, Gina grabbed at his wrist. “Promise me, Ricky.”

In response, he offered her his pinkie finger. She interlocked it with hers. “I’ll text you when I get home?”

Reluctantly, she nodded at him, and kissed him once more as he took another step back down the labyrinthine trellis. “Make sure nobody sees you leave.” She told him, gesturing to the front window, within which EJ and Ashlyn both sat, their mouths full of popcorn and their TV laying one of the Bridget Jones movies.

He took a step backward, his eyes never leaving Gina’s. Even when he reached the pavement his eyes stayed locked upon hers, like he too was taking this all in. It was really happening. He paused, waiting for a moment. Silently, like it was more of a reminder to himself than anything else, he mouthed three words at her under the sepia glow of the streetlamps.

* * *

Gina rapped her knuckle against the front door of Ricky’s house the next day. She’d been here before -- the first time being that night of Thanksgiving a year ago, when she’d come here, for him, to make sure he was alright, all because that little voice at the back of her mind had told her that he wasn’t. She’d been here several times after that too after she’d come back _permanently_. Once, when they’d spontaneously decided to have a marathon of 80s films, (one which had included Say Anything), and were joined by Ricky’s Dad halfway through the night.

But this time, now that they were Ricky and Gina _officially_ , something felt uniquely different.

“Mr. Bowen! Hi!” It was Ricky’s Dad who first greeted her at the door, his smile upon seeing her just as wide as Ricky’s usually was.

“Gina! Come in, come in, I’m sure it’s freezing outside,” he stepped aside to let Gina into the house, “ _But_ , haven’t I already asked you to call me Mike?”

“Sorry --”

“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat?”

“No thank you --”

“Ricky! You’ve got a guest!” He shouted up the stairs, as he turned to stand in the kitchen, leaned against the countertop. He reminded Gina so much of his son. His mind seemed to be everywhere but nowhere at the same time. “So Gina, what brings you to our humble abode today?”

“Well, I was just --” She paused. Did Ricky’s Dad know about them? What would he think if he _did_ know? Thankfully, Gina didn’t find out, because Mike’s eyes suddenly landed upon the tray of cookies Gina held in her hands, something he seemingly noticed when he’d first let her into the house. He gasped. “You know Gina, you’ve always been my favourite out of Ricky’s friends.”

She laughed, placing the tray on the countertop, and offering him one. Apple and cinnamon, that she’d spent a good two hours making earlier in the afternoon.

Mike sunk into it like he was having a religious experience. “Gina, you outdo yourself with these every single time. How do you do it?” He asked, having already finished one and reaching for another one.

“I can’t take all the credit for these, I actually found the recipe on --”

“-- Youtube, right?” Ricky came up behind her, taking one of the biscuits, and her hand, dragging her away with him.

Now -- they were standing in his room. She’d been in here before, but somehow, now that she was _with_ him, it felt different. Like she finally allowed herself to take notice of the cadence in his room, how it was so quintessentially _him_. With posters and cutouts from various magazines about countless different things splayed out and covering every inch of the paneled walls. There was order to the chaos though. Like the small section just above his bed that consisted entirely of polaroid pictures, every single one with a small date scribbled upon it in dark black sharpie.

As Ricky tossed his jacket across the room and onto a chair in the furthest corner, Gina sat up on her knees, aimlessly running her fingers across the pictures. The same face stood beside Ricky’s in almost every single one, no matter who else was in the picture, no matter which date, what year was etched into the bottom.

“Wow… you really have spent most of your life with this girl, huh?” She asked him, right as he joined her at the top of his bed.

“Gi --” He reached down for her hand. Gina tore her eyes away from the pictures and met Ricky’s.

“It’s okay, I get it.” She looked back to the faces that smiled back at her, ones she recognised from around the halls of East High. Most of them had known each other, seemingly, for their whole lives. Gina was just an outsider. “I can’t even imagine knowing someone for this long, and then --”

Ricky spoke over her. “Gina. It’s you. I promise you one-hundred and ten percent.” His hand met hers. “It’s just -- with Nini, it’s like…” He tried to think of the words, but understandably, it seemed hard for him to properly articulate just how his relationship with Nini worked, what it was like to spend your whole life with someone, to grow up with someone, to have memories of someone before anything else. Everything Gina had never experienced. They’d had so much longer to make memories than Ricky and Gina had.

He took a deep breath beside her, interlocking his fingers with hers. “I guess… I guess the reason I’ve been so reluctant to let her go is because whenever I think of pre-Todd, when my parents were still together -- I guess Nini was always there.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have --”

Ricky waved her off. “No. Don’t apologise. Cause I promise you, Gina, as soon as we’ve finished the show, I’m breaking up with her.”

“Yeah?”

He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head upwards so her eyes met his. “It’s the only other reason I haven’t done it already. You know how bad it was with everything last year.”

Gina wrapped her arms around his shoulder, pulling him in close. “Okay, to be fair, that makes a lot of sense. And personally, I really don’t know if I have the stomach to sit through another Breaking Free moment.”

Ricky groaned, his head sitting right in the crick of her neck. “Please don’t remind me.”

She smiled as they both flopped back down on the bed, her hand still interlocked with his and absentmindedly playing with the ring that sat around his index finger. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Gi -- You’re my girlfriend. It would’ve been an absolute dick move for me to have just not said anything about it.”

Gina quirked an eyebrow in response. “More of dick move than dating two girls at once?”

Ricky feigned a gasp, leaping straight off the bed. “Gina Porter! That’s so rude!” He screamed, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around in front of him. “You’re gonna get it for that!”

Her eyes widened. “I’d like to see you try.” His hands were still resting on her waist. Then -- he started tickling. “Hey! What the hell?” She reached back for one of the pillows that sat where they had just been. “I’ll have you know that I am in fact the Porter Family Pillowfight Champion… Sure, it’s only me and my Mum but --” She thwacked him around the head with one of the pillows.

He gasped sharply, grabbing his own pillow and hitting her with it.

“Ricky, didn’t your parents ever teach you not to hit girls?” She asked, before hitting him back, twice as hard.

He quickly tossed the pillow in the general direction of the bed, and gently put his hands on either side of Gina’s face, looking right into her, like he knew every thought she’d ever had.

“Hey!” She shouted, lifting the pillow above her head, ready to strike it down at any necessary moment, “That’s very clearly against the rules.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, “Rule number one, no distracting the opponents.”

He pushed his nose into hers, prompting her to swing, but her arm fell limp, dropping the pillow to her feet. His lips drew closer to hers until nothing but a breath separated them. But all too quickly Ricky’s hand was over her mouth as the loud ring of the doorbell sounded around the house, and Ricky’s Dad’s voice floated up the stairs.

“Ricky! Nini’s here to see you!”

Both of their eyes widened. What was she doing here? How the hell were they going to get out of this one? Had Ricky’s Dad told her that Gina was upstairs? Ultimately, without a word passed between the two of them, they decided on quietly hurrying down the stairs, stopping to crouch down on the stairs just out of view of the door, presumably where Nini was standing, but making sure they were in the direct line of Ricky’s Dad’s vision.

They waved and flapped their hands about, trying to get his attention, exaggeratedly grimacing and making throat-slitting gestures, any signal to tell him to stop and get her _away_ , as Mike turned to look at the both of them huddled closely together on the stairs.

He raised an eyebrow at their antics momentarily, but before long, his eyes widened and he seemed to grasp just what they were saying. Or rather -- asking of him. He turned back to where Nini was standing, still in the drizzle, still in the cold, just outside of the front door. “Actually… Ricky’s not here right now.” He told her.

“But I _swore_ I just heard --”

Mike spoke over her. “Yeah. Sorry, I thought he was here. I’m just… losing my marbles a bit.” He risked an affirming glance back to where Ricky and Gina still sat on the carpeted steps and shot them a subtle thumbs up. Once more, Gina’s hand sat in Ricky’s, running her fingers over his ring.

“Oh. That’s okay though, do you mind if I come in and wait? It’s quite cold, and I’ve got something to give him.” Gina could almost hear the infliction of a sickly sweet smile within her voice as she spoke. It borderline made her want to gag.

In response to her question, Mike looked back at them once more, and straight away Ricky made a shooing action with his arms, telling his Dad to get her away.

“Yeah. No.” Mike told Nini. “I can take that for you though!” He smiled.

“Oh. Okay?”

“Yeah. Bye!” He shut the door almost right in her face, and, with whatever Nini had brought Ricky in his hands, Mike hurried over to where Ricky and Gina were still crouched down upon the stairs.

“Do you guys mind telling me what’s going on?”

Immediately, Gina’s eyes landed on Ricky’s, silently willing him to break the silence and answer his Dad’s question.

“Nope,” was all that Ricky said, his eyes still firmly planted on his Dad’s.

Something within her urged Gina to clear her own throat, to reach out and nudge Ricky gently with her elbow. “Ricky. It’s okay --” She whispered, close by him.

There was a reluctance there. An unwillingness to admit to his Dad what was going on. Almost like talking about it made it real, that they were actually going through with this plan, the one to sneak around behind everyone’s backs until after the last show had been performed. Ricky huffed, standing up and meeting his Dad on the landing. His hand instinctively slipped into Gina’s again, leading her down the stairs with him.

He sighed once more before speaking. “Dad, you know Gina,” she smiled weakly, forever wishing that this scenario was one with more nuance. Something easier for his Dad to digest than just coming straight out with it. Mike had known Nini for just as long as Ricky had. How would he take it? He was friends with Nini’s parents. He’d watched Nini grow up. Surely Nini was just as much family to him as Ricky himself was?

Mike Bowen nodded a smile. “Hi Gina,” he spoke softly, noticeably more reserved than how he had spoken to Nini just moments before.

“Hi, Ricky’s Dad.” She corrected herself. “Mike.”

Like it was a habit, her eyes flitted to Ricky’s for reassurance. His hand was still in hers, and his thumb traced the back of her hand like a silent message of encouragement. She smiled and nodded at Ricky to continue.

“See, the thing is --” he paused, and this time, like a known thing between the two of them, it was Gina’s thumb that rubbed circles on the back of his hand, wordlessly telling him it was okay. “We’re, you know --” At that point, Ricky gave up with words and just held up his and Gina’s interlocked hands to his Dad.

A smile of recognition was suddenly painted across Mike Bowen’s face. “Right, the old illicit affair schtick.” 

Ricky tilted his head. “I don’t think --”

Mike Bowen tapped a finger to his temple. “Believe it or not, I was once a kid your age too, Ricky.”

* * *

This time, at rehearsals, Ricky’s arm sat languidly in his own lap, when ordinarily, it would’ve been draped across Nini’s shoulder. Instead of watching Nini, instead of listening to her sing, instead of taking in the words she spoke to him, Ricky’s eyes were almost constantly threatening to meet Gina’s. 

Perhaps worse (at least for the fate of the two of them), was that it wasn’t hard to notice at all. With every word Miss Jenn spoke to their collective, Ricky’s eyes dared to drift more and more towards Gina, and she didn’t even think that he noticed that he was doing it, but every time they did, Gina found herself wondering exactly how long they would even be able to even keep up the pretense.

She wondered, at one point, if they’d even manage to make it to Christmas without the whole thing blowing back into their faces.

She knew for certain that it wasn’t hard to notice how they were acting around each other when, halfway through the hour-long rehearsal, Ashlyn came up behind her and mentioned how Ricky’s eyes were constantly on her, daring to follow her figure as she danced across the floor.

Ordinarily, she’d be more than happy with that. Hearing that he was watching her that closely would’ve likely sent an unimaginable blush to her cheeks. But she knew how it would’ve appeared to an outsider.

She knew she’d have to say something. Nini was _right_ there, and she knew how suspicious it must have looked (how suspicious it _was_ ) having Ricky’s eyes follow her around the room, desperately trying to meet hers. _Espeically_ when his girlfriend (at least the one everybody in the room knew about) stood only inches away from him.

When Nini swung her arms up around Ricky’s shoulders, she found herself presented with an opportunity. Unsure of how Ricky would react, she stammered a breath and spoke. “Pack it up Dipper and Mabel. Halloween isn’t until October.”

Her eyes found Ricky’s, glaring back at her in confusion, but without having to move, not even raise an eyebrow, with nothing more than a look that told him everything, a look that willed him into realisation, Ricky straight away seemed to fully understand what she was getting at.

“Yeah? Well, I think that when I want your opinion, I’ll ask.”

She scoffed. (And she was pretty sure that one was the real deal).

“Meet me at The Cupboard in 5” was the text she’d received from him just before the end of their rehearsal.

EJ and Ashlyn had already started to head to the cafeteria for lunch, so she excused herself, blaming homework she’d needed to catch up on, and hurried to the janitor’s cupboard far and away on the other side of the school.

Before she could stop and enter, a hand emerged from the darkened cupboard, grabbing her gently around the wrist and pulling her into the deep darkness. “Fancy seeing you here.” He said, pulling on the light cord and illuminating the tiny room with a blue-tinged LED glow.

“You really waited in the dark for me? Why didn’t you simply switch the light on before I got here?”

He waved his hands in front of her, as though he was conjuring something from thin air. “The illusion.” He smiled at her. Gina scoffed because she knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. “If you’d like to step into my office.” He gestured behind him to where two buckets sat upside down on the floor on either side of a cardboard box in the furthest corner of the supply closet.

“Cute location for a first date. You really put some thought into this, huh?” She chirpsed, placing her bag down by her feet as she sat in front of Ricky, who was smiling at her so brightly, in a way she was certain she’d never seen him do with Nini.

 _Stop_ , she had to remind herself. _Comparing yourself to her is only going to get you hurt in the long run._ But then she reminded herself that, perhaps she was right to. It was _her_ who Ricky was sat with now, in a cupboard with cobwebs in every visible corner when he could so easily be sat in the cafeteria with his friends, and it was _her_ who Ricky couldn’t stop looking at all throughout rehearsal. **Not Nini.**

Even though Nini was right there waiting for him, and a reminder of everything Ricky wanted back, everything that he’d spent so long trying to get back. And in the end? He had chosen Gina.

Ricky winked at her. “I promise I’ll take you on a proper one, just as soon as we sort out the elephant in the room.” Gina hummed in response, resting her head on her hands. “So we’re just acting like we’re so repulsed by each other to the point where people think we’ll never in a million years get together?”

Gina clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe you got that from that one look.”

“What did I tell you? We get each other.” He smiled, mirroring her by resting his head on both of his hands as well and looking up at her. “Do we have to do this?”

“Unless you want your girlfriend to find out about us?”

He groaned, jutting out his bottom lip dramatically and rolling his head onto Gina’s lap. “But I don’t want to be mean to you Gi.” He held out his hand for her take, and she did, letting her fingers trace the outline of that damned ring.

It had always been an act of habit for her pick at her fingernails whenever she was overthinking, or she was in her head about something. But now -- now that she had Ricky, whenever she felt those feelings arise, it was his hand she sought to find.

In a way, Ricky had become her new habit.

Her free hand instinctively brushed through the front strands of his curls. “Come on now. Don’t act like that’s not what we were doing all last year.”

Pouting again, he looked up at her. “Yeah, but that was flirting.”

Gina rolled her eyes. “You’re an actor Ricky. So act. Isn’t that what you’re good at?”

He nodded, reaching his hands up to rub circles into his eyes with the palms of his hand. “Who told me it was a good idea to have two girlfriends at once?”

That comment was met with a sharp punch to the arm from Gina. “Careful, or you’ll only have one very soon.” She laughed.

He lifted his heavy head up off her lap, raising his hands defensively. “Joke, it was just a joke.”

They sat there for a moment. It was finally just about sinking in. That was, what they were about to do. To act, in front of all of their friends like they weren’t together. Acting the complete opposite. Because they had decided that this -- for whatever reason, that it was the easiest option.

Gina sighed. The show was still almost six months away, and Ricky wasn’t looking to break up with Nini any time soon. And though it hurt, she got it. She always understood him. That was just how they worked -- how they’d always worked. There wasn’t likely to be a time that she couldn’t glance at that boy and at any given time, know exactly what was going through his mind. Because often -- it was exactly the same as what was going through her own mind.

“We’re really going to do this, huh?” He huffed, lifting himself out of his seat and offering his hand to help Gina off of her bucket.

“Guess so.” She sighed once more.

As was tradition, by the time she’d been lifted off her feet, Ricky’s pinkie finger was held out in front of her, ready to be grasped by her own. And though she rolled her eyes (because who wouldn’t at the sheer cheesiness of it all), she swiftly took a hold of his pinkie and intertwined it with hers, linking them with a wordless promise.

“We should leave before the janitor invites himself to our party.” She remarked, picking her bag up off the floor.

“Okay, but you should leave first because it’ll look suspicious if we both leave at the same time.”

“Ricky,” she said plainly. “We’re currently hiding in a supply cupboard, planning on how to get around you cheating on your girlfriend. I think we’re already pretty suspicious, as is.”

“I --“ he started. And then, “Yeah, no you’re right.”

“Always am.” She added.

“You always are.” He repeated.

“I’ll see you in English?” She asked, tracing her hand over his one last time.

“See you in English.”


	2. part 2

An assortment of different snack food laid spread out upon the chequered picnic blanket on which the both of them sat within the confines of Gina’s room. Ricky was laid back, with his head in Gina’s lap, all but forcing her to feed him grapes straight from the stem, as her free hand combed lazily through his hair. “Throw it into my mouth, I’ll catch it.”

Gina rolled her eyes. “No you won’t Ricky, you have the hand-eye coordination of a bubble.”

“A bubble that doesn’t ever pop though. Trust me.”

“Oh yeah? Was it your _amazing_ hand-eye coordination that gave EJ a broken nose last year, or am I thinking of someone else?” She placed a grape into her own mouth as he sat up. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my night picking up grapes from my carpet.”

“You won’t. I promise.” He held out his pinkie expectantly in front of him.

She stared at him. “You can’t use that against me, you know.”

“I could be the best in the world at catching grapes in my mouth, but you’ll never know because you won’t be my pitcher.”

She thought for a moment. “Fine.” His lips were immediately pressed to her cheek in celebration. “ _But_ it’s just the one, and if you miss it, you’re picking it up.”

“You’re not going to regret this Gi.” He accepted her offer, and launched himself to his feet, rushing to the other side of the room, his mouth already agape. “Go.”

Gina took her own position, aiming her hand properly, shutting one eye to focus it accurately onto her target (that being Ricky’s mouth), and then -- she released it from her grasp as hard as she could, arguably too hard for aiming at someone’s face. Perhaps it was a good thing, because instead of taking his eye out, it hit the wall behind him with a loud splat, practically denting the plastering.

“Gi, I love you, but your aim was shit.”

“ _My_ aim? I’m the pitcher, _you’re_ the one that was supposed to catch it!”

What started with fits of giggles, turned into full “leaning-against-each-other-because-it-hurts-to-breathe” laughter, and ended with them both falling flat against the picnic blanket, into each other’s arms, and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that illuminated the ceiling of Gina’s room, presumably having been put there when this was Ashlyn’s room and had simply never gotten the time to take them down.

The room had been decorated since Gina had moved in, the walls which had previously been a milky pale yellow shade having been covered up with the softest and most delicate of baby pinks. Copious amounts of movie posters and album covers had been tacked up around the perimeters of the walls. Not yet memories she’d made with Ricky and printed out, for that was too risky, especially considering how frequently EJ or Ashlyn or another member of the apparently expansive Caswell family would come into the room. For all intents and purposes they were _mortal enemies_. No, those prints, ones of his arms wrapped around her taken on his phone, when it had been propped up against his skateboard one night, ones of his lips pressed to her cheek in the most delicate of kisses -- they remained enclosed in a memory box in the furthest corner of her closet. 

Yet -- those tiny luminescent stars had remained.

“Hey Wildcat.” Gina leant down, joining Ricky on his apparent mission to roam the infinity of effulgent plastic. When she leant back right beside him, he slowly turned his head to look at her, smiling softly at her.

“Hey Gi-Gi.”

“Ew. Only my Mum is allowed to call me that.” Ricky brushed away the curls that still clung to her neck, and rested his head where they had just sat, leaning up against her shoulder. 

He hummed, breath steady in her ear. “Do you miss your Mum?”

“For sure. But I really don’t think I would’ve survived moving around for another three years. Besides --” she let a quiet breath leave her lips as she rested her head back against his, “Now I have a reason to stay.”

“Where is she working at the moment?”

“LA.”

“We could make a weekend out of it at Spring Break.” He turned and looked up at her

“I wouldn’t want you to drive for like nine hours straight. Especially not in _that_ car.”

“You leave Bessie alone.” He pouted.

“Bessie? Out of all names you chose _Bessie_?”

“Gi, you forget who _actually_ got you home after Homecoming.” He huffed.

They lulled into a silence. But with Ricky, it was never an uncomfortable one, never a conversation where she was desperate to find words to fill the empty space between. “You’ll have to show me the real stars one day.” He said lazily, almost like the words had never intended to leave his lips.

She smiled down at him, once more letting her hand brush idly through his hair. “Of course.”

“Gi?” His voice was even softer, even quieter than before.

“Yeah?”

He sighed, and she felt him relax, almost as though he was deflating against her. “You’re the one.”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Ricky scoffed. “Firstly, rude. But -- I really do mean it.” He propped himself up on his elbows, looking straight down at her, the curls of her hair splayed out like a halo on the floor around her head. “You show me colours I can’t see with anyone else. _Especially_ not with Nini.” He laughed, almost breathlessly. “And even now we’re back at school -- it’s like. Well, it’s like every minute I spend with Nini solidifies how in love with you I am.” He took a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure I veered into total cringe at the end. _Apparently_ that’s a habit of mine. But I promise you, Gina, every word is true.”

Gina didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. That was just how they worked, wasn’t it? How they’d always worked. It was the spaces between the words that were the most important.

Ricky pressed a kiss to her cheek before settling back beside her. “Okay, it’s your turn to compliment me now.”

This time, Gina was the one to sit up on her elbows, looking back down at him, an eyebrow raised. “Uh? Since when was that how this worked?”

“Since now, I just told you.” He teased, smiling cheekily back up at her. In turn, she leant back down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder and grabbing (more out of habit than anything else) for his hand, allowing her fingers to toy with his ring.

“Okay, well,” she took a deep breath in, and for once, she was completely certain of what she was about to say. Because, in a way, the words had been playing on her mind since that first night, when she’d finally let down those walls and allowed him in. “Moving around a lot, I never really had a _home_ , or even a face I could go to when I just wanted out, you know? That was, until --” She leant over, looking straight at him and -- with utmost certainty, interlocking her fingers with his own. “You feel like home to me Ricky.” His smile grew wider, but she pressed a finger to his lips before he could say anything, before he could tease her, and make some snarky comment about this, just as he always did. “And don’t you dare say that I’ve gone soft. You’re the one who told me to compliment you.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He brushed a loose strand of her hair out of her face. His fingers brushed her skin, and though they were cold she near-on dissolved under their touch.

“Well --”

“-- And don’t say ‘cheated on your girlfriend’.” One of Ricky’s arms wrapped around her shoulder and her hand went up to meet it, interlocking their fingers with each other’s. 

Exactly. That was just them. The two of them didn’t _need_ to say anything, didn’t _need_ to articulate the words that went unspoken between the two of them. Because they just _got_ each other. It was as though they had their own language, one which was exclusively spoken between the two of them. Like they picked up on essences and energies. Motions and subtle movements. Changes in breaths.

So that’s what they did. Moments passed by as they sat in virtual silence, but nonetheless, a peaceful one, not speaking, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Just in each other’s presence. That was -- until the sound of EJ’s car roaring into the driveway awoke them from their motionless peace where they sat.

“I thought you said that they wouldn’t be back until later?” He asked her, as the both of them jumped to their feet and hurriedly began to shove half-empty packets of food back under Gina’s bed.

“Because I thought they weren’t. I don’t know what they’re doing here.” She restlessly ran a hand through her hair.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just --” Ricky kicked the chequered blanket away from where it had been spread out on the ground, and headed straight for the window, the one which opened out onto the rose bushes, to launch himself out of it, just as he had that very first night.

“Wait,” Gina said, grabbing a hold of him by the collar of his shirt, “You can’t go that way, they’ll see you.”

“Where else can I go?” He asked, hastily looking around the room.

“So,” EJ started, strolling right on into Gina’s room, with Ashlyn following close behind him. “It turns out that Oscar Isaac’s character dies literally in the first five minutes of the film, so we ended up walking out.” He continued, walking straight past where Ricky had been mere moments before, and flopping down on Gina’s bed.

“Hey, who is ‘we’?” Ashlyn asked, taking a seat beside her cousin. “I said wanted to stay for Timothee, but you said --”

“Ehh, he’s not really my type.”

“EJ, can I ask you a question?” Ashlyn asked. He nodded. “Why don’t you go back to your own house, and stop bothering us?”

“Wow Ashlyn,” he held a hand to his chest, “That one hurt.”

“Yeah, sometimes I forget that you don’t even live here.” Gina laughed, perhaps out of nervousness, because all too suddenly it felt as though with nothing more than a wrong breath, everything could fall out from under her, and leave nothing for her to grapple with and would only leave her falling into an endless emptiness. 

At that, Ashlyn rolled her eyes, and haphazardly swung her feet out beneath her. “It’s always something with you, isn’t it EJ?” One of her feet caught on something as she kicked. “Huh. What was _that_?” Gina held her breath. She hopped off the bed and crouched down against the floorboards, her eyes scanning across the food piled up beneath the bed. “Gina, what is all this?” She inquired, her hand reaching out and into the depths.

Instinctively, Gina moved around to stand in front of her wardrobe, and, off the top of her head, tried to think of an excuse for all the food that sat, half-eaten, under her bed. “I have an explanation… it's, you see, I was actually --” A thought entered her mind, “Well, I was actually planning on throwing a surprise for you two.” Her eyes fell to an already opened punnet of strawberries. “But I guess… I got hungry on the way?”

Ashlyn’s frown suddenly turned into a very sweet smile as she turned back to where EJ languidly laid back on the bed. “A party? For us?” Then she looked back to Gina. “What are we celebrating?”

“Uh, well, you guys have always done so much for me, I thought I should probably give back! So I guess that’s what this is… it’s me… giving back. I think.” She smiled.

Ricky choked back a giggle from within the depths of Gina’s wardrobe, prompting her to kick sharply backward and shudder the door from the outside. EJ shot a questioning look at her. “Sorry. I thought I saw a bug. A really _loud_ bug.” She cleared her throat. “Anyways we should go to the living room, it's always more fun in a living room.”

She made sure to slam the door shut as she left, leaving Ricky to run, like a thief in the night, having taken nothing with him but another memory of Gina to hold onto as long as he held her within his arms. (He took the rest of the punnet of strawberries too.)

* * *

Gina was beginning to get frustrated. “Nini, it’s literally four steps. Step forward on the right, step across with the left, step to the side with the right, and step to the side with the left.” She rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyes, desperately wanting to relieve herself from the heavy throbbing in her head that this girl was giving her. “If you can’t grasp that then --” Gina sighed heavily and took a step away from the main group of whom she was attempting to teach Carlos’ choreography, and walked across to the choreographer himself, folding her arms across her chest as she joined him.

He pushed his glasses up to the top of his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly irritated, and looked to his right-hand woman. “That bad, huh?”

She brushed a hand through her hair, and leaned in, out of earshot of, specifically, Nini. “Los, she can’t even get those whompers-stompers to do a jazz square. It’s like watching a baby horse figure out how to use its legs for the first time.” He sniggered under his breath, having to turn away from where everyone still stood expectantly still waiting for more instructions from the two of them. Once he’d composed himself, she leaned in once more, whispering to him. “Except less a miracle of nature, and more a human atrocity.” 

Through another scoffed laugh, one of the ones where you desperately try to hold it in, but instead you end up blowing the back of your throat out, Carlos ended up instructing the group to take five. The crowd eventually dispersed, with each person going to take a seat with their respective friend groups, which, every rehearsal, meant watching Nini going to sit down on the benches beside Ricky. 

As much as she tried not to, her ears listened to the words that were spoken between the two of them as Nini joined him, with a smile on her face still as bright as she ever saw. Ricky’s though -- she wasn’t quite so sure. He was usually good at hiding it, but today there was a hesitation in his eyes.

“Hey babe, I didn’t see you again at lunch. Where were you?” She watched as his eyes widened.

Their dates locked in the janitor’s cupboard on the furthest side of the school had begun to increase in regularity, and at this point in the term, it was happening almost once a week. Ricky would text her in their free period rehearsal, with the same message every time, and Gina would always give in, and join him and they’d just sit and talk about nothing and absolutely everything. About their parents, about rehearsals. Sometimes he’d play her a song he’d written (usually about her). And it would be a different day every week -- she knew Ricky was being purposely conscious of that. Too regular would be sure to raise suspicions. And she knew that he knew that. 

Ricky wrapped an arm around Nini’s shoulder, kissing her lightly on the top of the head. “Yeah, sorry, I had homework to catch up on.”

Nini frowned, pulling herself away from him. “What’s going on with you Ricky? You’ve had a lot of homework to catch up on recently when last term not once did you --”

His brow furrowed. “Nini. Come on.”

“You missed my Mum’s birthday last week for ‘homework’. Is there something you want to tell me? Because I need to know that I can trust you, especially because of --”

“Nini.” His voice raised slightly. Heads turned to look in their direction. He hushed. “I promise you that nothing is going on. You know what it’s like at home --”

“Right. Sorry for asking.” She moved in closer to him again. But his arm didn’t loop back over her shoulder. “I love you.”

“Mhm.” He mumbled in response.

Part of her felt guilty. That he was just blatantly lying straight to her face. But the headache that still lingered in her temples, one which was directly caused by Nini repeatedly not understanding the basic concept of rhythm had managed to convince her otherwise.

With a slight startle, mainly because her eyes were focused on the conversation from across the room (a habit she frequently found herself falling into, no matter how many weeks of them attempting to go on the _down low_ passed), EJ hurriedly came rushing up beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“You look exhausted.”

She groaned. “That’s because I _am_ exhausted. Do you know how hard it is trying to teach Carlos’ choreography to a bunch of people who’ve never even got five stars on Just Dance?” EJ hummed. “It’s like, Carlos’ choreography is up here,” she lifted a hand to about the height of her eye level, “But their skill talent is _here_.” Her other hand went down to the ground.

“Love the way you never mince your words Gi.” EJ nodded his head backward to where Nini and Ricky were still sitting on the backbenches, maybe talking, possibly not. “Wonder what that was all about?”

“I… I wouldn’t know.” 

EJ tilted his head. “Do you think he forgot how to say I love you again? Because as entertaining as that was, boy did it end up screwing up the entirety of opening night.”

“Yeah… well, good thing that’s not happening again this year, right?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He said. Before Gina could offer a rebuttal, EJ began on a new route of conversation. “Anyways. Homework at lunch again?” Gina nodded, taking a sip from her drink. EJ hummed. “Thought so.” 

Carlos ushered the main group of dancers back together into the middle of the room, commanding them to take the number from the top. “Nini. Watch your feet this time. And start on your left.” Gina told her before counting the group in. Right at that moment, the phone in Gina’s back pocket buzzed with a message notification.

**Ricky --  
<< I’m loving this**

**Gina --  
>> You don’t think it’s too much?**

**Ricky --  
<< It’s perfect**

**Gina --  
>> I feel way too okay doing this  
>> Great way to get a weight off my shoulders**

**Ricky --  
<< Being a bitch to people suits you**

**Gina --  
>> You’re too sweet  
>> Speaking of  
>> Party at Ashlyn’s on Saturday?  
>> In honour of yours truly**

**Ricky --  
<< I don’t quite know how that’s going to work, but of course I will  
<< You only turn 17 once**

**Gina --  
>> We’ll figure it out  
>> We always do**

**Ricky --  
<< I love you  
<< I love you  
<< I love you  
<< And just in case you didn’t hear me properly the first time  
<< I love you **

She must’ve been smiling at those last five messages, or maybe the group in front of her had just finished the first couple of bars of the dance, because there was an air of awkwardness and deafening silence surrounding her presence and when she looked up from her phone, all eyes on her. Including Carlos, who honestly looked like he was close to tears. Probably not because she was texting during rehearsal. Likely, it was because Nini feet still couldn’t keep up with the relatively easy steps he’d given to her.

“Nini, if you can’t nail this, then I don’t even know if you should bother being in this number at all.”

Now Nini looked like she was about to cry too. But in fairness, Gina thought, it was in all likelihood her own fault. It’s not like you can teach rhythm.

Ricky was the exception though. He always was. She’d come to know it to be true from all the nights she’d spent attempting to teach him the Beauty and the Beast ballroom dance last year. He’d come close to breaking her toes so many times, but eventually, and she meant _eventually_ (it took almost two months to get it right, and they ended up not even having to go on stage to perform it), they got it nailed.

But this -- watching Nini try and keep up she meant, was something else entirely. Maybe it was just her sheer reluctance to help. Or maybe an innate want to watch Nini fall flat on her arse in front of everyone.

Most likely the second one.

* * *

Songs bled into each other as they blared out amongst the ever-present chattering of voices that surrounded her. Gina played with the drink in her hand, rolling to cool metal between her fingers. It felt almost -- overwhelming? Was that the right word?

She’d spent the earlier part of the party with EJ, and Carlos and they’d spent a good two hours singing and dancing and singing Nicki Minaj and various Broadway songs out at the top of their lungs. But now, she just felt tired. And not physically.

Days similar to this were ones when she missed her mum the most. When she was younger, her mum would tiptoe into her room and greet her with hand-baked croissants, and a handful of presents, and they’d spend the entire day watching reruns of old shows that her mum had grown up with, and they’d laze all day doing absolutely nothing, and it never felt _tiring_.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful for what EJ and Ashlyn had set up in the living room. It had been two months since she’d last seen her mum, and though they’d speak every minute of the day, through text and through facetime when she got home from school, it just felt _different_ without her here.

And perhaps, a factor for her mood was that none of the faces in the crowd were Ricky’s.

He wasn’t there.

Gina knew, she’d known since the start of this whole entanglement, that there’d be moments where Ricky would inevitably have to choose Nini over her. Whether to keep up the pretense or other.

She just wasn’t expecting it to hurt so much when he did.

She slumped on the couch in the living room, just waiting. Bodies still moved around her, dancing to faded notes and bleary melodies. Maybe there was the slightest glimmer of hopes that he’d show up at the front door. Or even that he’d crawl up the trellis, just as he ended up doing most nights.

But the driveway was empty. No shadows moving under streetlights. There was no sign of life.

Behind her, the entire theatre troupe (Ricky and Nini excluded) were singing and dancing and singing even more, at the very top of their lungs.

But the near-deadly cocktail of missing her mum, missing Ricky, and knowing he was with Nini had her mind everywhere but behind her.

She knew how ungrateful it made her look. How suspicious it must’ve looked to onlookers. It was her party. Whilst everyone was dancing, drinking, actually enjoying themselves. Gina was just waiting. Waiting for that sunrise on the horizon, waiting for the sun to break. It didn’t look like it was coming anytime soon.

She could try to spend some time dancing, attempting to distract herself. But her mind in and of itself was enough of a distraction. Every five minutes it wandered and would lead her back here, to the couch beside the window.

“Hey,” EJ joined her on the couch, taking a seat beside her, “Don’t look like you’re having too much fun.”

She rubbed a hand over her face. “Right. Sorry.”

He offered her another drink. She took it, almost downing it in one. 

“That bad, huh?” She nodded, shooting him a tight-lipped smile. “Do you wanna talk about it?” She shook her head. “Fair enough. Let us know when you want everyone to go, right, and we’ll clear them out like… like — right well I’m sure I’ll get to a simile by the time you want people cleared out.”

Later in the night, after the house had emptied, and even longer after the stars had taken their place in the night sky and started to twinkle and twirl, she flopped down flat on her bed. Her eyes weren’t watching the window anymore. She didn’t feel as though it was necessary. She’d resigned to the fact that Ricky wasn’t showing up tonight.

And she was okay with that.

No -- really she was. She always had thick skin, didn’t let things get to her. Sure, in Ricky’s words she’d “gone soft” since then. But she really was okay. She’d thought it earlier in the night too.

She knew, and she’d known it all along, that at some point, there’d be moments where Ricky would choose Nini over her.

She just wasn’t expecting it to feel like it tore a hole right through her, like a gaping wound, one she couldn’t even do anything about, because it wasn’t like she could even _tell_ anyone about it.

But it was okay. She swore it was okay.

And that was what she’d tell Ricky too.

It was what she was telling herself as she curled up on her bed, watching the shapes and shadows of the ceiling. Looking at those cheap plastic stars.

Her phone suddenly began to buzz into life, urgently lighting up the room and vibrating rapidly. She sat bolt upright, watching as the screen illuminated.

With Ricky’s name.

He didn’t open with a greeting, he never did. He just launched straight into it. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“What?” Gina answered his call with a curt one-syllable answer.

“Gina. I’ll make it up to you.” His voice sounded tinny over the phone speaker, but she could still pick up how out of breath he sounded, like he was in motion. There was the faint echo of rushing footsteps across concrete pavement.

“Ricky, I told you. It’s okay. I get it.”

“But I was supposed to be there for you, and I wasn’t. God Gina, it's your birthday, and I couldn’t even text you.”

“Come on. It’s _just_ my birthday. Besides --” she sat up off her bed, and maybe out of nervousness, maybe out of something more, like she was an effervescent ball of energy and she just needed it _out_ , she began to pace around her room. “-- It’s not like you could’ve even shown up here in the first place.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’ve said.”

“Look -- I just --” His breathing slowed. The sound of movement over the speaker halted, as did the sound of footsteps. “Come outside Gi.”

“Ricky, I don’t know what --”

_Clack._

“What was that?” No answer from Ricky’s end of the phone.

_Clack._ A second, conformational knock. “Ricky, is that --”

She paced to the window, moving aside the curtain, and there, like an impenetrable force of deja vu, Ricky stood on the lawn again.

“Your hands are cold.” She told him, as he took a hold of hers and led her around the empty concrete of the skatepark on his skateboard. He’d promised to teach her, but they’d never quite found the time.

At least -- not until now.

Her infinitely warmer hands wrapped around his, rubbing over them, trying to generate the sensation of heat within. “How can you not feel it? They’re freezing Ricky.” She told him, as he continued to gently pull her around.

“I guess I just don’t really feel the cold.” He shrugged.

“Okay, wait.” Gina steadied herself on the skateboard, attempting to slow it down herself, but Ricky kept a hold of her hands tightly, but reassuringly, and continued to pull her. “Ricky, stop, oh my god.” He started to speed up, and like instinct, her hands went around his waist to stop herself from falling. “Ricky stop!” She screamed, and this time he obeyed, coming to a grinding halt, and having Gina collide into his back, leaving them both flat on the deck, laughing.

She sat up. “Well I _was_ going to give you these,” she said, reaching her hands into her jacket pocket, “But after that, I’m not entirely sure you deserve them anymore.” She told him.

Ricky pouted. “Not even though I’m your favourite person?” She frowned at him. He prodded her with a finger. “I’m sorry Gi, what is it?”

She removed her hands from her pockets, showing him what was within. “To match your hat.” She said, and the way she spoke -- you could hear the inclination of her smile within her voice. Identical to the hat she’d made for him last Thanksgiving, was a pair of gloves, knitted with the same care and same delicate touch. “Since you liked the hat so much.” She placed them within his hands. He smiled softly, and under the quivering floodlights above them, Gina wanted nothing more than to kiss that dumb smile off his face.

“Thank you Gi. _But_ it's your birthday, and you shouldn’t be the one giving the presents.” He reached into his own coat pocket, bringing out a tiny wrapped box, and placing it into her own hands. “Happy birthday Genevieve,”

“Ricky you know that’s not my full -- oh my god.” She pulled the contents of the box, which was, in fact, a delicate silver bracelet, with a single charm, a tiny intricate one, one that looked like -- “Are those my shoes?”

“Yup.” He said, with a totally shit-eating grin on his face. “You wouldn’t believe how many Etsy shops I had to trawl through to find one that looked just like yours.” He took the sliver of silver, and she held her wrist out for him, and with the lightest of touches, he clasped it onto her wrist.

“I love it. I love _you_.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her back down flat against the concrete. He lifted his hand to place it gently against her face, but upon contact, she took a sharp breath and recoiled backward. 

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head, “Your hands are still cold.”

Instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, letting her rest her head on his chest. Of course, of _course_ they ended up on their backs, staring up into the vast unknown infinity of black sky above them, and littered in the tiniest spatters of white were the glistening stars, watching them back. “I told you I’d show you the stars one day.” He smiled into her hair as she spoke. “You see that one?” She pointed up to the brightest star in the night sky, one that glistened and danced independently of itself. “That’s Polaris. The North Star. As long as you know where she is, you can find your way back home.” He mumbled something. Words she couldn’t quite make out, but ones that vaguely sounded like a promise. Maybe for her. Maybe words that intended to remain silent but had unintentionally stumbled out.

She sighed, pushing her head further into him. “How many months until opening night?”

In response, he pulled her closer, held her tighter. “Well, it’s January now so… two?”

“You think you can hold onto the both of us for that long?”

“I’m going to have to.” He mumbled. “It gets tougher every day, especially days like today where I have no choice but to go with her over you. _But_ I know it’s going to make it all the better in the long run. Being able to just hold your hand in the hallways. Being able to actually call you my girlfriend in passing conversation. It’s all I’m holding onto.” She leant up, and kissed him, once. And into her, he once more mumbled the words she thought she’d missed moments before. 

“I don’t need the North Star to find my way home. Not when you’re right here.”

* * *

Every week marked the same pattern of events, like some twisted version of Groundhog Day. Unnecessary arguments every rehearsal to really hammer home the fact that they were entirely repulsed by each other. Every week marked another date locked in that old stuffy janitor's cupboard. Nights were spent under the stars at the skatepark by Ricky’s house.

Valentine’s Day -- usually a relatively quiet day in Gina’s calendar. But even just waking up that morning, Gina knew that this day was bound to be at least slightly different. Even the night before, well, after rehearsals, she’d made a limp excuse to sneak to Ricky’s locker on the other side of the school and stuff the gifts she’d spent hours making into his locker.

She knew from the start that he’d have to spend it with Nini, lest she become ever more suspicious of what was going on between the two of them. Of course, her morning was still made all the more pleasant by waking up to an unprompted “I love you x” text.

Though -- that didn’t mean it had to sit right with her when she and EJ walked past the two of them stood at Nini’s locker, one in which a large teddy bear had been stuffed, one which held up a tiny red love heart announcing the three words Ricky had apparently found so hard to say to her last year. It didn’t mean she had to hold back a roll of her eyes when Nini flung herself around his shoulders, leaving a tiny delicate necklace in the place where her hands had sat. “Since you liked the other one so much.” Gina heard her say.

It did, however, sit right, when Ricky’s hands found their way to the pink shoebox shoved right to the back of the locker, the one Gina had spent all day decorating and filling with personalised trinkets, and stickers. And it certainly sat right with her when she walked right past the two of them and saw the look on Nini’s face when he told her that he loved it. Especially when she heard the hurt in her voice when she had to tell him that it wasn’t from her.

She wasn’t even expecting anything. It wouldn’t exactly be subtle, would it? And it would be weird for Ricky to have gotten two girls the exact same present. Perhaps that was why Gina (and EJ just as much) was _so_ shocked when she opened her locker and out tumbled a teddy bear at least twice the size of the one she’d just seen Ricky give Nini, completed with stacks and stacks of cupcakes, upon which labels marked that they were all gluten-free.

It wasn’t until she picked up the soft bear (whose name tag declared that his name was Nicolas (after Cage)), that she noticed what hung loosely around his neck. A baby pink envelope, covered in glitter and sealed with a red love heart sticker, upon which her name was written.

Frowning at EJ as though she was confused as to the identity of her ‘secret admirer’ (although she definitely knew who this was from already), she pulled open the envelope and unfurled the note which had been left inside.

**“To GiGi <3  
You are the music in me.  
I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for, and my heart likes the view.  
Love from the Troy to your Gabriella.**

**PS. I told Fork Girl that I’m staying at my mum’s tonight, so I’m all yours and we go wherever you want to x”**

She knew EJ was trying to get a glance over her shoulder, trying to see who this extravagant display was from. She hurriedly slid the note back into the envelope.

“So Gina… who’s the guy?”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing one of the cupcakes, and giving it to EJ. “That’s for me to know and you to… not know.”

Her arm still absentmindedly clutched onto Nicolas the bear who, she noticed, had been masked in the heavy scent of the cologne that Ricky had tried to use to impress her one night at the skatepark before they’d even started dating.

When she looked up from her locker, Ricky was in front of her, but his hand was interlocked with Nini’s. They shared a glance, one of those silent ones, but one where they knew what each other meant nonetheless. She pulled her eyes away from him. If EJ had noticed anything about that, he didn’t have the chance to mention it before Nini started to speak. “Wow Gina. Whoever got that for you must _really_ like you.” She said, with some vague inclination of smugness on her voice.

Gina scoffed. “Yup.” 

Ricky held true to his promise, and later in the day, after school (and after another rehearsal in which the two of them made absolutely sure to ham up the dramatics (“Ricky! Still talking?” “Gina! Miserable as always!” “I guess you just make it easy for people to be miserable around you.” ) Gina found herself hand in hand with Ricky in some retro-hipster cinema on the other side of town. The being on the other side of town thing was deliberate. How likely were they to be caught when they’d so purposely taken the scenic route to the furthest cinema they could find?

Something felt different though. When she held his hand. Like there was something missing.

“-- And then she got me a necklace? When have you _ever_ seen me wear a necklace?”

Gina smiled at him, but her mind was elsewhere. “Hey, where’s your ring gone?”

He bit his lip. “Great timing. Speaking of necklaces, Nicolas wasn’t your only present --” he reached into his bag and took out a tiny box. Then, he opened the box revealing a delicate silver chain, upon which sat--

“Your ring?”

He undid the chain. “Yours now.”

“Ricky, I can’t possibly take this.”

“It’s your present, for Valentine’s Day.” 

“But your Mum gave it to you,” she said, really not wanting him to give up something so important.

“Look, come here.” He gently brushed ringlets of her curls away from the base of her neck and leant around her, carefully placing the necklace around her neck. “See. It suits you.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, looking down at the gift and already instinctively threading the circlet through her fingers.

“Gina.” He spoke earnestly, tenderly taking a hold of her chin and moving it so she was looking right at him. “With you? I’m always sure.”

His dark eyes met hers, like there was a fire within them, one she only ever saw when he was with her. But that flame very suddenly faded as his eyes flitted to the alley behind Gina, and he very quickly slinked deep into the base of the cushioned seat. “But I’m not so sure here’s the best place to be right now --”

“Ricky? What is it?”

He took a hold of her hand and pulled her down, joining him so the both of them were sat low in their seats, unable to even see the screen in front of them. He quickly perched back up, looking to the same place, and, in one movement, joined Gina again. He rested his head on his hand. “Nini’s Mums. Ten o’clock.”

Gina frowned, taking a turn to look up at the gangway. Sure enough, there were the two women she recognised from the audiences of musicals, handing assortments of snacks between the two of them, and getting ready to take their seats.

“Do you think Nini’s here?” Gina asked, sitting back down low in her seat again.

Ricky shook his head. “But they’ll tell her they saw us together. Gina, we can’t be here.”

Gina dared one more glance up, and they were still stood by the exit. Ricky ushered her in, close to him. “If you go and distract them, I can sneak out.”

Gina sighed. “You’re sure?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Hi, you two are Nini’s mums, right?” She asked, slowly wondering to the gangway where they still stood, just about to squeeze into their seats halfway down the row. They both furrowed their brows. “Oh, I’m Gina Porter,” she held out a hand and smiled sweetly, all whilst turning their gaze away from the row Ricky was trying to escape from, “I do theatre at East High with your daughter.”

A hint of recognition glanced upon one of their faces. “Ah, you played Taylor in High School Musical, right?” The dark-haired one asked, taking Gina’s hand in her own.

“Yep, and Babette in Beauty and the Beast.” Gina smiled brightly and subtly nodded her head to the left to let Ricky know that now was his chance. 

The blonde one frowned and turned to look to where Gina had just nodded. _Shit._ Gina waved her arms and raised her voice, trying to get the attention away from Ricky. “UH and soon to be the main character in this year’s musical.”

“Which is?” One of them asked. But Gina’s eyes were focused on Ricky crouched low to the floor behind them, even as he commando rolled down one of the alleyways, like an absolute fucking moron. He got to the exit, and stuck his head back around the corner, covertly ushering for Gina to follow behind. Her eyes returned to the two women in front of her. “Well, it was nice meeting both of you!” She hurried out, speeding walking like a mother from the 80s and keeping her eyes on Ricky, who stood just out of view of the main alleyway.

Straight away his hands were around her waist, lifting her into a hug and spinning her around. “What’s this all in aid of, huh?” She asked, allowing herself to be spun.

“I’m so sorry, _but_ I’m going to make it up to you! Your carriage awaits.”

After the _great breakout_ (not her choice -- that was what Ricky had called it in the ‘getaway car’) they found themselves in an almost empty pizza place on one of the furthest edges of town. It was one of those tiny establishments that seemed like it was exclusively known by locals, by people who had lived here for their whole lives.

“What are you going to have?” Ricky asked, eyeing her over the paper menu that sat in his hand, half obscuring her view of him.

Gina played with his ring, just as she usually did, but this time it sat on a chain around her neck. She held her own menu in one hand. “Hmm.” She watched Ricky. “Guess.”

“Guess?” He thought for a moment, before answering confidently. “Cheese.”

Gina sat back, setting her menu down. “How did you --”

Ricky tapped his temple. “I’m a genius babe, what more can I say.”

He held out his hand for her to take, and she stepped up, once, twice, clambering back into the house by the trellis. Sure, she could’ve come back in via the front door, but where would the fun be in that? Where would the _romance_ be? Where would the _fairytale_ be?”

Just like the lyrics in the Carrie Underwood song Ricky had _insisted_ upon playing on the drive home, because apparently, it was an absolute _travesty_ that Gina had never seen Enchanted.

_**No wonder you heart feels it’s flying, your head feels it’s spinning.** _

As he watched her climb, and she looked back down at him and he was smiling back up at her, well -- it was almost Austen like in composition, like he was Mr. Darcy (though Gina would insist that he doesn’t have the range) and she, Elizabeth, and even with everything going on around them, they were all that mattered.

“Goodnight Ricky.” She called down, swinging her legs over the windowsill, without a care in the world, still looking down at him. Point blank refusing to pull her eyes away from him, as though the moment she did he would dissipate into nothingness, that he would cease to exist.

Because it felt so wholly unreal. That he was here. That he stood in front of her. That _his_ ring sat on her chest just above her heart.

“Goodnight Gina.” He said back to her, his voice like molten treacle. He hesitated for a moment, almost like he was studying her, the shadows and highlights of her face, and the way she was looking at him. And it was all through the softest eyes, ones that crinkled in the corners every time they laid upon her.

They waited there. He took a step backward. She swung her legs back out behind her, so she technically stood within the boundaries of her room. But her head was stuck out of the window, and the lightest of gusts of cool wind blew through her hair, leaving it dancing in the wind as though it had its own mind.

And in that moment -- almost like magic, what she had been anticipating in a way, like he was the prince climbing the tower in which she was trapped, he hurried up the trellis, the green bushes still littered in blooms of crimson winter roses, and he met her lips once, twice.

And once more. For luck, he told her.

And one more just to be certain.

Gina’s bedroom door suddenly flung open behind her, flooding the room with light, illuminating both of their faces, as well as that of the silhouette that stood looking in on them. “I _knew_ you were waiting for -- **IS THAT RICKY?**


	3. part 3

His body was halfway in the window, halfway out. One foot was shoved into the trellis for support, brushing up against thorns and blood-red flower heads, whilst the other was propped up against Gina’s windowsill. His thumb was lightly pressed to Gina’s bottom lip, lingering there like the ghost of a memory, as hers hovered right beside his own, frozen in a moment in time. A stream of light hit them directly, bathing the both of them in the cool-tones of the LED lights from the hallway. The door to her bedroom was knocked ajar, and Ricky recognised the silhouette of the person that was standing there, eyes locked on them.

It was inescapable. Completely and wholly inescapable. This time he couldn’t just duck and hide under the window again. No -- it was far too late. They were caught in the act, seen with their lips upon each other’s, by someone who only knew them as they presented themselves -- enemies. “Sorry,” was the only word he whispered, almost mumbled right onto her lips. An apology was all he could really give her in the moment.

She pursed her lips, pressing them into a thin line. “I know.” She whispered back into him, their noses still inexplicably pressed together. It sounded as though she was conceding. Like those two words were an admittance to herself more than anything. Her hands, a warm, comforting and familiar touch like always, still sat on either side of his face. 

She took a deep breath, and turned to face the inevitable.

“EJ! Hi.” She spoke on an exhale. There was something that sounded suspiciously like a pang of relief drenching her voice. He couldn’t know for certain if she’d done it purposely, but part of him (the part of him that just _got_ her, the part of him that understood the most subtle of her nuances) suspected that there was suddenly an air of alleviation surrounding her. Like finally having someone else know about _them_ released a huge bout of tension within her.

Because one thing was for certain -- EJ knew. Like, _knew_ knew. They had been caught out. The moment that stream of light had hit them, Ricky knew there was no getting around it. They should’ve been more careful in hindsight, but EJ had already seen what he had seen. There was no doubt about that. He’d seen Ricky’s lips pressed to Gina’s, one hand steady on her waist, and the other resting on the softness of her cheek. The only thing that could happen after this point was perhaps the part Ricky had been the most hesitant for. The inevitable damage control. (And perhaps a threat shot in his direction, like an eye-for-an-eye with a promise not to tell.) (If threatening EJ Caswell was even a thing a person like Ricky could do.)

The thought of whatever would happen next, of whatever series of unfortunate events would occur after this point, Ricky made sure to suppress right to the bottom of his being. Instead, he rested his head on his hand up on the windowsill, and watched the scene as it played out in front of him. Watching as EJ’s eyes flicked rapidly between Gina and Ricky and vice-versa as if he was doing a triple-take, making doubly sure he had seen what he had just seen. Ricky nodded him a hello, as if that was going to give EJ any respite from whatever state of shock he was currently in.

All EJ could possibly know about what Ricky and Gina _were_ was exactly what Ricky and Gina had decided to show everybody; a barely there relationship consisting almost entirely of snarky comments, snide one liners and sarcastic insults.

With _just_ how protective EJ was over Gina, and _especially_ coupled with the glare like dagger that EJ was currently sending right in Ricky’s direction -- “That wasn’t what it looked like.” The words spilled out of Ricky’s lips, almost like a wholly involuntary action.

“Really?” EJ asked, obviously not entirely believing what Ricky had said, because, to be completely honest -- _who would?_ Even Ricky knew that EJ wouldn’t believe him as soon as the words had come tumbling out of his mouth, but the one thing that stood out most in his mind in the moment was making sure that Gina wouldn’t be branded as something that she wasn’t. EJ took a step first into the room, flicking the light on and shutting the door behind him. “Because to _me_ it looked like you had your grotty lips on the closest thing I have to a sister?”

“That’s not true…” Ricky sighed. But he knew it was unavoidable. EJ knew exactly what he’d seen. And there certainly wasn’t any other explanation Ricky could pull from the ether as to why he was hanging onto her windowsill like Flynn Rider trying to get into Rapunzel’s tower. Even further from his grasp was a feasible excuse as to why his lips had been pressed to hers. ( _Would “She got bit by a snake! Yes on her lip, that happens.” work?_ ). He gave in. “Okay, yeah, maybe that is true.” He winced, expecting the worst.

“Ricky. It’s okay.” Gina said, just quiet enough for Ricky to hear. But it _was_ enough. She held her hand out behind her, allowing it wrap around Ricky’s and help him fully into the room (as, all whilst EJ was shooting him the deadliest of glares, his leg had still been entangled in the climbing vines on the trellis, just below Gina’s window.) “EJ, you cannot tell _anybody_. No one other than Ricky’s Dad knows.” Her left hand was fidgeting, even when interlocked with Ricky’s own, and her free hand was playing anxiously with the ring that sat around her neck, like a nervous tic she’d already managed to develop during the brief time it had sat upon her chest.

EJ rubbed a hand through his hair. “Why? Why _him_? Since when? How long? What about Nini? I’m really not good at keeping secrets, you guys couldn’t have had anyone else walk in on you? This is a lot of responsibility, and I’m not at all good at keeping my --”

Gina stepped forward to meet him. “EJ, calm. _Calm._ ” Her hand didn’t leave Ricky’s, though. If anything, her grip on him only tightened. “I know you probably have way more questions that we can answer, and believe me, this whole thing is just as much of a shock to me, but I’m telling you now that I’m in --”

“You’re still with Nini?” He’d turned to look at Ricky, his face painted with ire and animosity. 

“EJ --” Gina wanted to handle this herself. Ricky knew that. She always did, she always took it upon herself to bear the brunt. Ricky _also_ knew exactly how this entire situation sounded to anyone other than the two of them.

“I am.” Ricky said, his voice and expression steady. Gina shot a reaffirming glance at him, and her fingers shifted ever so slightly as he held them in his hand. Her eyes slowly blinked, and the corners of her lips quirked up ever so slightly, like she was telling him entirely wordlessly that it was okay, and Ricky knew the subtlety of it was something only his eyes could capture. He turned back to EJ. “But it’s not what you think --”

EJ folded his arms across his chest. “Tell me Ricky, what _do_ I think?”

Ricky brushed his free hand through his hair, still feeling Gina’s heartbeat so close to his. “That this is just some temporary fix thing. That it’s insignificant. That it’s so much less than what it actually is. That we’re only doing this for the hell of it, that this is some uncomplicated thing, when it’s nothing --”

“So what is it Ricky? I don’t want Gina to be your thing on the side whilst you wait for whatever relationship problems you’re having with Nini to mellow out.”

“EJ, please just listen to him.” Gina pleaded, somehow managing to get even closer to Ricky than she had been before.

“Gina’s not just some page in the story of me and Nini. If anything, Nini’s just a passing paragraph in the story of us. Of me and Gina I mean. Because it _is_ me and Gina. Sure, I love Nini, part of me always has, but my entirety belongs to Gina. And I _know_ how dumb this all sounds because I’m sure the entire time you’re just thinking “If he’s in love with Gina, why doesn’t he just break up with Nini?” But love is messy, and it’s complicated, and I don’t want it to be like that. I want it to be easy. With Gina, it is. It just _makes sense_. It's like for the first time I actually _get_ it. What it means to be in love.” EJ opened his mouth to speak, but Ricky kept going. If he’d said this much already, he might as well let the rest of his feelings spill out of him. “And don’t think any of this was Gina’s idea, or Gina’s fault. This was all on me. But I need you to understand that I wholly and entirely love her. Jesus. You make me an absolute wreck Gina Porter.” And like that, her hand steadied in his.

“Oh.” There was a silence that filled the air after EJ spoke that singular syllable. Gina stilled. Her eyes were watching Ricky though. Always watching him. EJ spoke suddenly. “Is this true Gi?”

She pulled her eyes away from Ricky and challenged EJ. “Yes. Every word of it.” Something in her shifted, and Ricky could hear it within the inclination of her voice. She sounded contended. More certain.

“When?”

Ricky hummed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, since when did you _know_? That it had always been Gina?”

Ricky huffed. There was still a tension on his shoulders but it had lifted slightly. It was less weighing. He watched Gina again. Always Gina. “Last Christmas, I was writing a song. I think a part of me was lying to myself, hoping that the words I was writing were about Nini, like I so desperately wanted them to be. Like I told myself there were. Like I tried to convince myself they were. But then -- Red told me to actually stop, and listen to the words. So I did.” He bit the inside of his lip, ripping his gaze away from Gina and turning to face EJ. “They were all about Gina.”

“Oh.” Another single syllable answer. Ricky couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. EJ turned to look at Gina. She returned his gaze, her chin lifting to meet him. “This entire time?”

“Since September.” She affirmed.

“And every time you were slagging him off to me? Every time you made some snarky comment about him right in the middle of rehearsals?”

“Planned. Rehearsed in the janitor’s cupboard before lunch. Every last one of them.” EJ flopped onto Gina’s bed, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“So _that’s_ where you were sneaking off to at lunch.”

“EJ, you cannot tell anyone. Please?”

“Gi, this is a lot. Are you sure… are you sure it’s the right thing to do?”

“In these past couple of months, I’ve never felt so _right_.”

“Plus, if it helps --” EJ glared at him when Ricky piped up. “Not that it would... but me breaking up with Nini has been in motion since before I even asked Gina out. The only reason it hasn’t happened is just -- you know what happened last time we broke up.”

EJ mumbled, as though he was recalling it to himself. Ricky could literally see his inner turmoil, watch the cogs move inside his mind. “You’re sure?” EJ looked up, and watched as Gina looked so intently at Ricky. He sighed. “Fine.” He stepped forward, engulfing Gina in a massive bear hug. “As long as you’re happy. That’s all I want for you.” He warbled.

“Gross. And you refuse to accept that you’re the Mum Friend.” She jabbed his ribs with her finger as he lifted her off her feet. “Look at you being the sensible one.” Ricky stood awkwardly beside them. Gina looked up from the hug. “Can Ricky join?”

And with that same fluffy inclination to his voice, EJ said -- “Not a chance.”

* * *

“You ready?” He asked apathetically, looking over to the seat beside him.

Nini sat in the driver’s seat of his car, with the chair pulled all the way forward and her hands already placed on the steering wheel. “Yup!” She exclaimed, slapping her hands excitedly down against the leather. “Are you?”

He mumbled. “Let’s just… try not to crash, alright?”

Nini cleared her throat, her eyes fixated on him. “Yeah. I mean, yeah. Of course. So what do I --”

He dangled the car keys off one finger, and she grabbed them off him, waiting for him to give her the next instruction. “Turn the car on.” He slowed his speech, making sure she heard every direction he was giving her.

She’d spent months trying to convince him to give her driving lessons, and she’d finally managed to get him to come around to the idea. Not that he wholly wanted to be here. But Gina had pushed him to do it. Something about “acting the part” she’d said.

“Right,” she shoved the keychain in the general direction of the ignition, and sure enough -- “Yay! I knew that. I knew to do that.” Her fingers tapped readily on the wheel of the car as it rumbled into life. “Ricky, honestly, I can’t thank you enough for --”

The SatNav by the side of the dashboard suddenly illuminated too, and the droning female voice within began to speak, loudly. “Your current destination is 753 Row --”

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shitshitshit. **Shit.**_ Ricky scrambled and shoved his finger into one of the buttons on the device, immediately silencing the voice with and promptly changing the destination that appeared on the screen. _Play it cool,_ he told himself. Pretend that Gina’s address didn’t just come up on the SatNav whilst he was sat beside Nini and teaching her to drive, in the very same car he’d used last night to drive Gina home from a date on the furthest side of town.

Apparently, she hadn’t noticed it. Or maybe she had, but wasn’t saying anything. And it wasn’t like he was _dying_ to talk about it. So he just pretended that it hadn’t happened. How likely was she to know that it was Gina’s address, anyways? Probably not at all likely. So what did it matter?

It could’ve been his Mum’s new address for all she knew. So he wasn’t going to bring it up. Not voluntarily, at least. “So, if you shift it --”

“And now, you take the key out. And there. Parked and safe and sound, with all four tires still intact. Quite good Nini.”

She smiled over at him. “Quite good, or _very_ good?”

“Just quite. I think you almost ran over an old lady near the park, which really doesn’t help your case at all.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I didn’t mean to, the steering wheel just --”

He ran a hand through his hair. “No, it’s not -- Let’s just leave it.”

She smiled again, watching him intently as if she was trying to know what was going on inside his head. There used to be a time she could do that. Where she could look at him, and know what he was thinking. But sometimes, _people change_. Maybe he wasn’t opening himself up to it anymore.

If she only knew that his every thought was occupied by Gina Porter. Gina’s smile, the feel of Gina’s hand in his, the sensation of her lips pressed against his. Of her laugh, if his hands wrapped around her body, and resting on her hands, trying to teach her the right chords to the guitar, because she’d asked him about it one time, months ago. (Something Nini had tried to get him to teach her several times in the past, but he’d never been that interested in doing.) She couldn’t possibly know. He didn’t know what he’d do if she were to ever find out.

He avoided her eye contact. He didn’t feel guilty, per se. If anything, he was more concerned about her realising the way he looked at her paled in comparison to the way he looked at Gina. That wasn’t something he could fake. He was sure that if she looked hard enough through the mask he wore when he was with her, she’d see the truth. And so -- “We should probably --” He took his seat belt off, and opened the car door, preparing to lift himself up and out of the seat. Before he had the chance to, though -- Nini spoke.

“I miss this. I miss _us_.” She rested her cheek on the steering wheel as she looked at him, through dark eyes and long lashes.

“I don’t know what you mean.” That was a lie. He knew exactly what she’d meant. Every weekend was filled with untruths and fabrications in order to get out of spending time with Nini, and allowing him the freedom to hang out with Gina instead.

And he _knew_ it was starting to reach breaking point. Nini was right, in a way. They hadn’t just _been_ in a long while. But Gina was like a drug, and as much as he knew that too much of her would only worsen things between him and Nini, (something he was so desperately clinging onto for the last couple of months until the show had been wrapped up), he couldn’t get enough of her.

Night in, night out, he’d sneak through that front gate, clamber up the vines blind in the dark, just to seal his fate. Making out in the glow of vending machines in an arcade on the west side of town. He couldn’t get enough of the high.

“Can we go back to yours? Maybe watch a movie? We haven’t hung out in ages.” She whined, jutting out her bottom lip. 

Ricky’s hand brushed to the back of his neck. “Maybe not right now?”

“Oh. It’s just -- my Mums aren’t expecting me back for another hour, and since we’re already here, I just thought --”

Ricky rolled his neck against the headrest. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to text Gina to meet him at the skatepark, and spend all night teaching her to skate, or dancing with her on rollerskates, and him on his skateboard, to music only the two of them could hear, and, in the cold of night, ending up wrapped in each other’s arms. But, above it all, he knew how it would look to Nini if he didn’t. So instead of saying no -- “Sure. We’ve got Disney Plus.”

“Have we not watched this before?” He asked, as she laid her head down on his chest, wrapped in a blanket, and they watched some film Nini had chosen on the television in front of them. Ricky’s Dad had joined them, sat in the armchair opposite. Ricky purposely ignored his Dad’s furrowed brow, and the troubled look that appeared on his face every time he looked at the two of them sat so close together.

Upon hearing Ricky’s words, Nini sat upright. “No? I don’t know what this film is about.” He could’ve opened up his arms, offering for her to lay back down on his chest, content. He could’ve just let it go. 

Instead -- “No.” He sat up, shifting his weight so that it was impossible for Nini to lie back down on him. “I definitely remember. We were sitting in this exact same position, and I remember because you said I had bony ribs and that you were really uncomfortable but I started stroking your hair and you ended up falling asleep on me anyway.”

She smiled awkwardly, but as she spoke, he could hear the inclination of hurt in her voice. “Ricky? I don’t know who else you’ve been watching movies with, but I’ve quite literally never seen this film before in my life.”

There was that little voice in his telling him to admit that he was wrong, and he’d never seen this movie before, and that it was all just a dream. Instead of that, “But I remember it Neens. Your hair kept going in my face because of how you were laid on me and --”

Ricky’s Dad abruptly stood up in his seat, walked right in front of the TV and started motioning in the direction of the kitchen. “Hey Rick, do you wanna come get the pizzas with me?”

Ricky shifted under his collar. “Can’t you do it? I’m in the middle of the film and --”

“No Ricky. I need a hand.” He insisted, all but dragging Ricky by the collar into the kitchen, where the pizzas weren’t even nearly done. “Come on Ricky. Do you really need your old man to coach you through _everything?_ ”

“What do you mean?” He asked, leaning up against the granite countertop.

“Ricky.” His Dad walked up to him, and in hushed tones -- “You didn’t watch it with Nini. You watched it with Gina.”

And for the second time that night, his consciousness slipped into a flurry of ‘shits’ and ‘fucks’ and ‘oh nos’ and ‘how could I be so stupid.’”

His Dad leapt up onto the countertop beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and aggressively pulling him into a side hug. “I’m just concerned that this is getting to a breaking point way too soon for you. And I don’t want anybody getting hurt. Not Gina, not you. Not even Nini.”

“Hey guys,” speaking of the devil, she walked into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face. “Heard my name. Thought you could use some help with the pizza.”

Ricky rubbed a hand over his face. “Nini, maybe it’s best if you go. Just for now.”

Her hand met his on the countertop. There was no warmth to it -- not like there was with Gina’s. “Ricky, did something happen? Are you okay? Was it something I said?”

“Nothing happened, I just feel like --”

Mike interrupted. “Actually, it’s a family emergency. We just need some chill time at the moment.”

Her face immediately fell, and her hand went to his knee. “I _knew_ something happened that you weren’t telling me. What is it?”

Ricky’s shell shocked eyes desperately glanced to his Dad, willing him to say something that would get her out of the house. “Ricky’s Nan’s dog… it kind of… exploded.”

“Exploded?”

“Apparently so. He just kind of,” he made a quiet boom noise, “Blew up.”

“Oh. Ricky, I’m so so sorry.” He shot a thin-lipped smile at her, akin to something like a thank you. “I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to, you know that, right?”

“Yup.” And with that, she left.

He let out a deep sigh. “Exploding dog? Was that really the best you could do?”

“Look son, I never claimed to be the origin of your acting prowess.”

“Right.” Ricky jumped off the countertop to go back to his room, but his Dad grabbed his shoulders before he could.

“Not so fast. I just -- You need to be more careful Ricky.”

“I know Dad.”

“I know you know on _paper_ , but it doesn’t seem to be happening in practice. Just. Be careful.”

Ricky got off the countertop, leaving to head back up to his room and FaceTime Gina, to talk about nothing and everything. One thing pulled him back though. Something left unsaid. “Dad?”

Mike looked up. “Yes, son?”

“Somebody always has to get hurt.”

* * *

This far into the year, with dates within the confines of the supply closet (which had since been meticulously dusted clean of spiderwebs and greying grime) becoming a weekly occurrence, the school janitor had learnt not to interrupt. He’d walked in on them watching Love Actually, once. Ricky had been using his bag as a pillow and, in turn, Gina was using Ricky’s chest as hers. He’d remarked about joining them, considering how much he’d actually gotten to know them with the amount of times he’d walked in and found them sitting on the floor together.

Part of Ricky assumed he knew not to talk about them. That he knew _why_. Why else would two people be spending their lunchtimes in a cupboard?

EJ must’ve watched her knowingly as Gina excused herself from their lunch table, because this time, he _knew_ , but he usually spent every minute of his lunchtime doting over Kourtney, so Gina had told him that she had no reason to suspect that he’d actually come looking for the both of them.

“So,” Gina began, resting her head on her hand which, in turn, rested upon her knee. She looked at him with those brown eyes, and every time she did, he wanted to melt all over again, like the absolute mess that she so consistently made him. “Rehearsals later.”

“What about them, Gigi?” He said, looking up at her through his lashes. He knew exactly what she was getting at, he always did, but it was still fun to tease her about it. About the whole situation. About the fact that this had been going on for four months now. 

Everything that had happened over those months seemed so romanticised, and fictional. Like a scenario you’d see in a film, or read in a book, about the overpowering type of love, where you’re so devastatingly overwhelmed by a person that the only way around it is clandestine meetings, stolen stares, and you know in every moment that you’d ruin yourself a million times for them.

About the fact that they were spending their lunchtime planning yet _another_ argument to have in the middle of rehearsals, as if their companions were itching for more.

“So,” she began, settling onto one of the buckets beside Ricky, “I was thinking that we --” _Knock._

Someone was at the door.

And it wasn’t the janitor; he never knocked.

Ricky sprang up off the floor, hurrying to the door whilst, in the same movement, switching off the LED light that hung above their heads. He slowly pried the door open, only allowing his head to peek out to see who it was, and, standing there -- insanely reminiscent of the night before -- was EJ Caswell, hand in hand with Kourtney.

“Oh. Hey guys, what are you --”

EJ rolled his eyes. “Move, you idiot. I told her.” EJ took the door in his free hand and effortlessly pushed it open and, in turn, pushed Ricky out of the way, revealing Gina silently cowering in the corner, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Dude? What happened to not telling anyone?” Ricky demanded, shutting the door behind him, and switching the light back on.

“She’s my _girlfriend_? Am I just not supposed to tell her?”

Gina sat back up, perching on the bucket once more. “Yeah. But she’s also Nini’s bestfriend?”

Kourtney, who was still hand in hand with EJ, suddenly spoke. “Uh, actually. We’re not. Haven’t been for a good while now.”

“Oh.” Gina said, her voice feigning a sullen tone. “I’m sorry about that.”

Kourtney chuckled. “Don’t be. She’s actually not that good of a person. Sometimes it just takes a third-party to help you to realise that you deserve better.” She smiled up at him, and EJ’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder.

Consequently, EJ beamed back down at her. Ricky watched Gina open her mouth as if to tease or goad him about it, but he quickly shut down that route of conversation, instead saying -- “We’re here to help with plan _Illicit Affairs_.”

Ricky took a seat on the bucket beside Gina’s, instinctively resting his hand upon her knee like it belonged there. “Since when has _this_ had a name?”

Kourt grinned, her eyes glancing upon EJ. “Since this lunchtime, we workshopped it for like… twenty minutes, so don’t be ungrateful.”

Gina’s voice faltered. “I don’t know if -- I don’t know whether that’s a good idea. I don’t want your names dobbed in it when someone too close to Nini finds out.”

“Come on Gi,” EJ whined, his voice dragging out, “We literally spent the whole of first period choreographing your argument for the next rehearsal.”

Ricky tilted his head. “What do you mean _choreographing?_ ”

Kourtney pulled up her own bucket, placing her bag down on the floor as she sat. “Eh -- semantics.” She waved a hand. “But trust us. It’s _really_ good.”

EJ smiled. “We got it from the best.”

Gina rolled her eyes. “EJ, you’re not as much of a lyrical genius as you --”

Kourtney smirked, a knowing glint in her eye. “Oh believe me. I wouldn’t trust him either after hearing some of the songs he’s written --”

“Ouch babe? I thought you loved A Billion Sorrys?”

“Oh, I do babe, trust. Just not in the way you want me to. No -- we’re taking a leaf out of Shakespeare’s book. Excuse the pun.”

“Shakespeare?” Ricky said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Gina joined in, her brow furrowing in confusion. “As in the dead white guy?”

EJ’s grin, the one he was showering Kourtney in, very suddenly fell, turning into a frown. “Uh. Bill didn’t write the greatest love story of the ages just for you to call him a ‘dead white guy’. No matter how true that might be.”

Gina shook her head again. “You’re on a first name basis with William Shakespeare?” EJ nodded. “Okay… I’ll bite. What are we stealing from him?”

EJ looked right over to Kourtney who, in turn, lifted her bag off the ground and pulled out a pocket copy of one of his works -- Much Ado About nothing. Within the first couple of pages were tens of brightly coloured sticky labels, and Ricky could just about make out EJ’s scribbled handwriting covering some of the pages, sticking out through highlighted swathes of text.

“I pray you, is Signor Montanto returned from the wars, or no?” And beside it, scribbled faintly upon the page -- “Is Gina here?”

Ricky’s eyes scanned a couple of lines ahead. “Scratching could not make it worse an ‘twere such a face as yours were.” And sure enough, alongside it was another scribble, underlined multiple times. **”Flame his highlights.”**

Ricky and Gina looked first to each other, and then to EJ and Kourtney, who were looking back at them sanguinely, waiting for a response.

“It’s very --” Gina began.

“-- Dramatic.” Ricky finished for her. “Are you sure you didn’t just want an excuse to flame my hair?”

EJ held his hands up defensively. “You got me. But -- what do you think? Honestly? And choose your answer carefully, because most of this was Kourt’s idea, I’m not letting that dead white guy take _all_ the credit, and I won’t hesitate --”

Gina chewed at the inside of her mouth. “Are you sure it won’t come across as a little… theatrical?” She asked, her hand intuitively reached up to the necklace around her neck. The one which held Ricky’s ring. It was like a subconscious thing, as if she didn’t even realise that she was doing it.

Kourtney waved her off. “Please -- theatre kids love drama! They’ll eat this up, believe me.”

Gina seemed almost… convinced? If that was even the right word to choose to describe her. She turned to Ricky, with that same expression of anticipation on her face. “What do you say?”

Ricky sighed. And then, he shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve got any other ideas.”

And so -- in rehearsal -- “I’m astounded that you’re still talking, Ricky.” Gina said, her arms folded across her chest, as she stood beside Carlos (who was none the wiser to their plan), helping the main group with their choreography once more. “Nobody in this room is listening to you.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of what?”

“Of being so averse to everything, all the time.”

“Only ever because of you Ricky.”

He stepped out of the group, taking a step closer to Gina. “Not that I even care, but what do you have against me?” 

“Says the one that’s been making snarky comments against me the _entire_ year.” EJ made some comment under his breath, one that Ricky hadn’t heard, but he had apparently made sure that the people that had gathered around him to watch the scene play out had heard. Gina continued. “I don’t even care enough to continue this.”

“Keep that same attitude then, yeah?”

“Oh, believe me. I will.”

Then -- just like that, with hushed voices and stolen glances in each of their direction to ascertain the aftereffect of the fracas, rehearsal was over. They could never walk out together -- not like they’d done after every rehearsal in that first semester they’d met. No, Ricky _had_ to always walk out of rehearsals with Nini. After she’d seen him and Gina do it -- she’d all but insisted upon it.

She’d barely made any comments about the (wholly manufactured) animosity between him and Gina, but this time, for whatever reason, she’d noticed. “Hey, you okay? That seemed like… _a lot_. What was that about?”

He quickly brushed it off, because it wasn’t even like he could expand upon it, even if he wanted to. “Don’t worry about it. How are you?” They strolled down one of the corridors leading out of the school, followed by half the other theatre kids. They passed by lockers and classrooms, hand in hand. 

Her hand shifted in his hand. Like it was looking for something. “Hey, babe?”

“Hmm? What?” 

She slowed him to a stop. “Where’s your ring?”

He tilted his head at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Ricky. I’m serious. Where’s your ring?”

 _Oh._ He felt his heartbeat quicken within him, felt his breathing stall. He looked at her, desperately trying not to look as utterly bewildered as he felt. “Uh… I lost it.”

“You _lost_ it?” She dropped his hand, taken aback. “Ricky, your Mum got you that ring, how do you just --”

“Can we just leave it, Neens?”

“I think we need to talk.” Her voice was slow, barely steady.

Immediately his stomach was plunged into a free fall, like it had been pushed off an infinite chasm, without a parachute and left to its own devices. He couldn’t even allow himself to think of the worst. There was no way they’d come this far, so many stolen stares across busy rooms, that many forbidden kisses, and lunchtimes spent in secrecy, just for the plan to fail now. And especially not in a crowded corridor, with Gina not but a few paces behind him. Not where all their friends would be, and the dirty laundry would be completely laid bare. And though he hesitated at first -- “... Can we not do this here?”

She tilted her head as she looked up at him. Whatever smiled that had remained lingering upon her lips, slightly dissipated. “What do you mean? It’s not even that bad.” Her hand threatened to brush by his wrist, as if she was trying to grab for it, and he quickly moved it out of the way. “Look, I know I’m probably being paranoid, but I just wanted to hear an excuse from you as to why --” Her speech slowed as footsteps neared them. Two pairs of footsteps that both stopped suddenly. He heard one take a step backwards. Nini’s eyes landed on one of the figures behind him, her eyes brightening, and she stepped forward, taking Gina by the wrist and ushering her into their conversation. “Can I borrow you?”

Gina hesitated, her eyes flicking between Nini’s and Ricky’s. Lingering on Ricky’s for a moment longer. “I don’t know if I oughtta.”

Nini shook her head dismissively. “Okay, well, you’re my friend, right?” Gina opened her mouth to speak, but Nini barely gave her the time to breath before immediately speaking over her. “Cool, so let’s say -- hypothetically, that you’re me. And Ricky is your boyfriend.” (Gina’s fluttering eyes stilled upon Ricky. There was something behind them -- something akin to an apology.) “Would you be suspicious if an address you didn’t recognise was in his SatNav?”

Ricky rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Nini, you’re being unreasonable.”

Nini didn’t let down. She stood between the two of them, expectantly. Gina’s focus on Ricky heightened. He all but audibly heard her swallow. But ultimately, the answer she decided upon was a simple one. “... No.”

Nini nodded, as if she was genuinely contemplating upon Gina’s answer to her question. Then, she asked another. “And if he started talking about memories he’d made with some other girl, whilst you were trying to make some with him?”

And again -- Gina gave the same answer. “No.”

“And what about if his _favourite_ ring went missing, suspiciously close to Valentine’s Day?”

“No.”

Nini frowned momentarily, but it seemed like she was actually ruminating on what Gina had said. “Oh. Cool. Okay. Thank you so much, you’re always such a big help. And you’re probably right too. I’m probably making a huge deal out of nothing.” She smiled sweetly. “Well,” she began, turning away from Gina to wrap her arms around the back of Ricky’s neck. “That settles it then!”

He moved a hair’s breadth away from her. “Settles what?”

“You’re my date to the dance next week!”

* * *

The poster was strung up between the two sides of the corridor, painted in the deepest of blues, and, in golden cursive, it announced the details of the upcoming dance, apparently scheduled for the next week. It also announced a theme -- a masquerade ball. 

(What went unnoticed by him was the declaration that, also to occur at the dance was a vote, for the Belle and the Beast of the Ball.)

He should’ve seen it really, but with everything going on, so much of his time had been spent lost within the realms of his own mind, thinking about everything and nothing, all at the same time.

And usually -- he was thinking about Gina.

During rehearsals -- instead of texting Gina, as per the usual, his finger hovered over a different contact name, and as soon as Gina stood up to run another dance rehearsal on the stage (and -- also as per the usual, stole a glance at him from across the room), his finger pressed down on his phone, and he sent the message.

He folded his hands across his lap, looking at the person sitting directly across from him. “So -- you’re probably wondering why I asked you here today.”

“Can you hurry up with this?” EJ deadpanned, staring straight across at him.

“Okay -- you’ll have to stick with me on this one though, because I need your help.”

“Ricky. We’re running my scene in five minutes.”

“Right. This is going to take like a maximum of five minutes.”

EJ crossed his arms across his chest. “Go ahead. But if this runs over --”

Ricky waved his hands. “It won’t, it won’t -- trust. Besides, this is about Gina.”

In one swift movement, EJ moved from standing in the doorway to sitting on the bucket opposite Ricky. “ _Now_ you have my attention. Spill.”

Ricky sat back. “So -- you know the dance?”

EJ nodded, knowingly. “I am aware, yes.”

“Well -- obviously, I’m in a bit of a predicament here.”

“Which is your own fault.” EJ added.

“Of course. The thing is -- I was just wondering how I was going to do this. Because Nini’s asked me to go, but, in reality --”

“-- You want to go with Gina.” EJ finished for him. Ricky nodded. “And you want my help?” He sat back on his hands, looking like he was contemplating something. “Well, obviously, you can’t be in two places at once.”

“Unless I can?” Ricky inquired.

Like a lightbulb went off in his head, EJ’s eyes widened and the smile on his face grew. “It’s a masquerade dance, right?”

“I think so, yeah. Why?”

“ _Because_.” He reached down for his bag, unzipping it, and revealing the same book he’d shown him the lunchtime before. “I think it’s time we take another leaf out of Shakespeare’s book.”

Ricky rolled his eyes. “EJ, I don’t think that’s --”

EJ leant down as if to pick his bag back up. “Unless you don’t need my help?”

Ricky went to grab for his wrist, stopping him from standing up. “No, EJ wait. I was joking, please help me. I’m so far down this hole, and I really don’t know how to get back out of it.”

EJ sighed heavily. “Believe you me, working with you so you can cheat on my ex with my best friend is giving me no amount of pleasure. But I want Gina to be happy. And luckily for you, my want for Gina to be happy trumps my disdain for you.”

Ricky bit his lip. “Thank you. Seriously. What’s your plan?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.” EJ placed the same highlighted book on the cardboard box between them. “Everything’s a case of mistaken identities.”

“Right…”

EJ groaned, rolling his eyes. “Do you not get it?”

“Can’t say I do, no.”

EJ turned a page. “Because of the masks, people can pretend to be someone they’re not. Are you getting what I’m saying?” Ricky hesitated again. “Ricky. _You_ can pretend to be someone you’re not.”

“I still don’t --”

EJ put his head in his hands. “Look. If you get two different masks. You’re going to look like a completely different person when you’re with Nini than when you’re with Gina.”

“Oh.”

EJ nodded, trying to get him to understand. “People can see you and Gina dancing together, and be none the wiser.”

“How am I going to get away from Nini for enough time to spend with Gina, though?”

EJ sighed. “I can’t believe I’m actually considering doing this for you. But. If we wore the same mask. I could distract Nini, pretending to be you, for enough time so that you could spend some with Gina.”

“You’d do that?”

“Not for you. For Gina.”

* * *

He had decided pretty early on that he was going to get ready at Gina’s. He had to take Nini to the dance, so it was the least he could do. Besides -- whereas EJ would usually get ready at Ashlyn’s house, this year he was at Kourtney’s, and Ashlyn was at Big Red’s.

He’d pulled on his shirt, but left the yellow masquerade mask that matched Gina’s dress on the side. His other mask -- the red one that matched Nini’s dress -- sat in the glovebox of his car, ready for the quick switch when he went to pick her up. His tie, a neutral black, sat beside the mask. There was one _minor_ flaw, however.

He couldn’t exactly do up a tie. It wasn’t that no one had _tried_ to teach him. Just -- before dances, he usually had Big Red on hand to do it for him. So this time -- he picked up the sliver of fabric off the side, and headed into Gina’s bedroom, where she was still finishing off applying tiny charms to sections of her hair.

Stood in the doorway, he cleared his throat, at which point, she turned and looked at him, their eyes connecting upon each other’s immediately. There was a quiet hum of music from somewhere in the room, slow and deliberate.

She brushed a curl behind her ear as she stood up and walked across the room to meet him, at which point, he couldn’t hold it in. “Gi, you look _insane_.” He often found himself feeling that way around Gina. With the tilt of her head he’d find himself telling her everything. She just had that affect on people.

“A good insane though, right?” She inquired, scrunching her nose.

“Always. You _always_ look --” He couldn’t finish his sentence. He knew that how she looked couldn’t be defined within the realms of his vocabulary.

Her cheeks flushed crimson. The same crimson as the winter roses that had persisted through the winter, still blossoming up to her window. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” She told him, cheekily pressing a finger to his ribs.

He shook his head once, placing him back in the reality, the one where that fabric band still sat within his hand. He presented it to her, at which point she tilted her head, but seemingly understood what he was requesting immediately. Because, she slowly slipped it out of his hand, and leant up, wrapping the length of it around his neck, and bringing both of the ends to the base of his throat.

She bit her lip as she focused on knotting the two ends together properly so they formed something that vaguely resembled a presentable tie. Her brow furrowed as she focused, and he knew there was no point in holding it in, so he leant down and kissed away her concentration wrinkles. She let out a tiny, quiet giggle as he did so. Then -- she flattened his collar over the tie, and with manicured hands she took a hold of his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.

The sedate music delicately lulled back and forth, and Ricky’s hands suddenly found themselves placed upon Gina’s waist, and hers were around his neck, and she started to sway in time, and everything just sort of _happened_.

He was moving like he knew exactly what he was doing (which, when it came to dancing couldn’t be further from the truth. But Gina just kind of had that effect on people.) There was a slight swell in the melody, at which point, his hand reached for one of hers that sat on his shoulder, and, holding onto her fingers with the lightest of touches, he spun her out, and then back into him. From that point -- her head was rested upon his neck, and he could just about feel the fluttered pattern of her breaths on his cheek. Her hand was back rested besides his face, just subconsciously circling on his skin. He knew it’d mark him like a bloodstain -- even if he had to do the same with Nini later in the night.

Nothing with _her_ would ever feel like it did with Gina. It wouldn’t even come close.

The song began to quieten, and though he could willingly stay here all night, with his arms wrapped around her waist, and hers upon his neck -- Nini was (unfortunately) still very much his date to the dance. He dared a glance to the clock on Gina’s bedside table, knowing full well it would only show him what was inevitable.

“I should go. But listen. Me and EJ have got this all figured out, okay?

Her hand was still in his, reluctant to ever let go, even as he headed to the window, like so many nights before. (Even though no one else was home, there was just something almost _romantic_ about the struggle down from her window to the front lawn.) “You and EJ? Having a plan? I can’t say I’m loving those odds Bowen.”

He pulled up outside of Nini’s house, texting her once, and waiting for her in the car. Somehow -- and he was sure he’d forget and end up cocking up the entire plan -- he’d reminded himself to switch his masks, so the yellow mask was the one sat in his glove box, and the red one -- one that matched Nini’s dress -- was the one that was tied around his head.

Eventually, she hurried out of the front door, holding a clutch bag in one hand, and the hem of her long dress in the other. She launched herself into the car, ducking under the door, sitting down, and turning to look at Ricky expectantly. Like she was waiting for something.

“So… are you gonna tell me I look nice?” She asked, positioning a hand awkwardly on her hip as she pulled her seatbelt into place.

He blinked hard, clearing remnant memories of Gina from his mind. Ones that made him feel as though she was still here, like her hands were still lingering on his skin. “Right. Yes. You look very nice Neens.”

The entire car drive to the school was practically silent. No music. Barely any words passed between the two of them, barring a passing comment about the state of the traffic as they pressed on towards the school. Nothing, other than the sound of rustling fabric as Nini played with the hem of dress. That -- and the ever present pressure upon his skin, where Gina’s touch marked him like a tattoo.

Memories that plagued him even as the two of them walked into the auditorium together, which had, in honour of the celebration, been all but completely covered in blue and golden balloons, streamers, and intricate table displays.

Nini headed in first, handing her ticket to one of the teachers on the door, Ricky following fast behind. He could already see EJ, stood at the punch table as they arrived, Kourtney hanging off his arm. In his free hand was his mask -- identical to his own red one. Nini was still awkwardly standing there, beside Ricky, and they were frozen in some vaguely uncomfortable silence. In an effort to make it less thorny, Ricky quickly remarked -- “You excited?”

Her head spun around. “Yup.” 

“Cool.” EJ’s eyes caught onto his own from where he was standing at the punch table, and he nodded at him, as if trying to get his attention. “Okay, well, I’m going to go get some drinks.” In response, Nini smiled, thin-lipped at him.

“Everything ready?” He asked readily, as he approached EJ and Kourtney. They nodded in unison.

EJ rolled his neck, jumped up and down, like he was getting ready for one of his water polo matches. “Wish me luck.” He leant down and hugged Kourtney tightly.

She shook her head in disbelief. “I really hope you boys know what you’re doing.” Ricky sighed deeply. EJ held Kourtney for a moment longer, before he turned to Ricky.

“You --” He pointed at his eyes, and then back to Ricky. “I’m watching you.”

Ricky pulled the other mask out of his pocket, the yellow one, and Kourtney helped him to tie it around the back of his head. “You’re an absolute Godsend Kourt.” 

“You can say that again.” She joked, her eyes watching to where EJ had just walked up to Nini, disguised as Ricky. “He said he needed the improv practise though, so no complaints.” She quipped. “And besides, you two are switching again in five, right?”

Ricky nodded. “That’s the plan.”

She smiled. “Now, what are you doing, still standing by the punch table? Go find your Cinderella.”

He spied the crowd, trying to find the masked face of, as Kourtney had put it, his Cinderella. And when she walked through the double doors into the room, he realised that the way Kourtney had described her was perfect. Because she really did look like a princess. As if, when she’d entire the room, everything had suddenly _illuminated._ Within himself too. And somehow (he genuinely did not think that it was possible), she looked even better than when he had left her house, too, her face now masked by delicate white lace.

She looked bewildered, obviously looking for a face she recognised, which, unsurprisingly was difficult to look for in a crowd with features completely barred by cheap plastic. He slowly approached her, his hands in his pockets, and a cocky smirk on his face.

“M’lady. Can I have this dance?” He offered, holding his hand out for her to take.

She laughed, biting her lip. “Ricky. I know it’s you.” He straightened, pulling her into a hug. Into him, she whispered. “It’s just a bit of plastic. You’d have to be an idiot to not recognise people in them.” 

He kissed her temple, and pointed to the area in the crowd where Nini was currently sat, joking with EJ, dressed in the red mask. “You’d be surprised.”

She opened her mouth, taken aback. “You didn’t.”

He tucked back a strand of her hair. “I did.”

“What about Kourtney?”

He put his own hands on her face, rubbing a thumb over her bottom lip. “You have me for five minutes until we switch. Which is why, we should probably --” A song began to play, one Gina obviously recognised, because before he even had time to finish his sentence, she interlocked her hand with his and pulled him to the dance floor in the centre of the room.

Without having to worry about a single person realising it was the two of them, they danced. For the whole five minutes. Something Ricky never thought he’d ever done, not in a million years. Yet -- here he was, dancing with Gina, in front of everyone.

Then, he spotted EJ, mask off, arm wrapped around Kourtney. He took a hold of Gina’s hands once more. “I have to go for a second, but I’ll literally be right back.” He interlocked his pinky with Gina’s. “Promise.”

“Promise.” She repeated.

“Nini,” he announced purposefully as he headed back towards her table, leaving Nini with Kourtney and EJ, “I have the drinks.”

“Thanks.” She smiled warmly as he placed it down in front of her. She’d found a seat in one of the tables scattered around the exterior of the auditorium. She seemed… quiet. There was something in the way she was looking over the crowds of moving bodies that seemed… almost wistful. She sighed loudly. Purposely loud, intentionally done so that he could hear the drained infliction to her voice. “Do you wanna dance?”

Ricky frowned. “I don’t dance.”

Nini’s face fell. “Oh. Okay. Sorry for asking.” Then he heard her sigh again, slow and deliberate. “Well, I’m gonna go dance with Seb. I’ll see you in a minute.” She stood up, kissing his forehead and then running across the gym to meet with Seb. As soon as she was out of his eyeline, Ricky scrambled to his feet, running back to the otherside of the room to see Gina again.

He ripped off the red mask, probably taking a few clumps of hair out in the process, and pulled the yellow one down over his eyes. When he arrived at the table, Gina was sitting, looking from the outside at Kourtney and EJ, dancing up a storm in the centre of the room.

“Welcome back.” She’d said, and after a pause, she started laughing.

Ricky tilted his head. “Is there something on my face, or --”

“No, no.” Her bottom lip caught in between her teeth. “It’s just -- hold still.” She reached up for his mask, and flipped it upside down, properly positioning it on his face. “There. Much better.”

“What would I do without you?” He wrapped an arm over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Beneath the table, her pinky interlocked with hers. No promise being spoken between their lips. But they knew what it meant. His head rested upon her shoulder, and with that, he could sense her breathing steady, with it’s patterned rise and fall. Even as the music in the room seemed to grow continually louder, as did conversations and laughter, it felt as though he could hear every lapse and lull of her heartbeat so close to his.

Sat here -- resting on her, watching everyone else do their own thing, whilst they did theirs. There was something so innately _right_ about it. They didn’t need to be dancing to have a good time. They just had to be themselves. It was enough.

Way too soon, EJ and Kourtney came back across the crowd, hand in hand. “Nini’s looking for you.”

“What about --”

“Full offence Ricky, but I want to have a good time with my girlfriend too.”

He sighed. “Right. Yeah. Sorry. I’m sorry for putting this on you too.” EJ nodded a thin-lipped smile. The closest thing to a thank you he’d ever get from a Caswell.

Then, Ricky turned to Gina. “Nini’s looking --”

“I get it.” She smiled, but it was a dejected smile. Just because she understood it didn’t mean she had to like it. And then -- like some visceral thing, he was ripped away from Gina and sent running back across the room, tying the mask around his head as he went, and sitting back down at the table, opposite from Nini.

“Where were you?”

His voice hesitated. “The bathroom.”

“Hmm.”

They just sat there for a while. Not saying anything. Barely moving.

He could barely even hear his own thoughts over the constant pounding and hounding of music.

His eyes searched the room for EJ, and sure enough, he was back standing expectantly by the punch table once more. “Going for a refill.”

She groaned. “Didn’t you _just_ go?” 

“Yes? But I need another.” Faster than he could walk, he headed back across to EJ. “Everything okay?”

EJ whispered under his breath. “Gina just texted me.”

Ricky frowned, urgently scanning the room for her face. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

EJ looked down at him. “She went to get some fresh air with Kourt, don’t worry. Look... I know we thought this would work but -- she doesn’t want the back and forth. She wants to be dancing with her friends and having a nice night. Not waiting for the next five minute appointment. She wants _you_ Ricky. As much as it pains me to say it. I know this was _my_ idea, but let’s be honest. When have my ideas ever worked? Just -- rethink whether this is really worth it.”

He rubbed a stressed hand through his hair. “Okay. I’ll go… I’ll speak to her.” EJ nodded at him once, patted him on the shoulder, and headed back over to the table.

As for Ricky -- he headed out of the auditorium, into the corridor just outside of the main hall to find Gina, but she was already back inside, talking to Kourtney. Her face seemed smaller, like the light inside it had dimmed, somehow. She smiled as Ricky approached, and Kourtney understood what was up, heading back into the auditorium, presumably to go find EJ. Then -- it was just Ricky and Gina.

“Ricky.” She smiled smaller, picking at her nails. It didn’t sound like she was going to say anything. Not until she found the courage to, and it all suddenly came spilling out of her. “I know you and EJ had this whole thing planned but -- I just wanna have a nice night. With _you_. I want it to be like this all the time. Without the masks. Without having to care about who sees us. Without having to go on the damage control if anyone else _does_ find out. I don’t wanna have to keep secrets just to keep you. Sitting there with you tonight has felt like the most natural thing I’ve ever done. And I understand if you --”

“Okay.” 

She studied his face. “Okay? But I thought you didn’t --” 

“Gina.” He took a hold of her hands, holding them firmly in his own. “All I wanna do is be with you. This was _never_ about keeping Nini. It’s always about you. I should’ve known this was gonna happen, and I never should have ever expected you to keep this whole thing going, especially without telling your friends, and I’m so infinitely sorry and if I could just --”

She kissed him, there and then, like she didn’t care who would stumble upon them in the moment. They’d kissed before, but this one. This one. It was different. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t drenched in secrecy or the ever looming threat of being caught. It just was. Her hand fell to his face. “Okay then. Let’s go and have the night of our lives, and dance like nobody’s watching us.”

Someone had been watching them though. Perhaps the one person lowest on the list of people they would want to see them together. All Ricky heard though, was the click of kitten heels against laminate flooring, and his mind automatically assumed it was coming from someone who was nothing more than an acquaintance. The idea that it could’ve been Nini stood there, watching him kiss Gina in a way he’d never kissed Nini before, completely slipped his mind.

When they headed back into the packed auditorium, crowds had gathered around the stage, upon which Carlos stood with a microphone in one hand, and two sealed envelopes in the other.

“What’s this all about?” Gina leaned in to ask. Ricky didn’t have time to answer her question, though, because before he could speak, Carlos announced --

“I’m sure you’ve all been waiting on tenterhooks for the results of the vote for the Belle and the Beast of the Ball.”

Whilst still looking ahead to Carlos’ announcement on the stage, Ricky reached for Gina’s hand, and interlocked his pinky finger with hers. He leant down to her, whispering in her ear -- “I’ll come find you later, yeah?”

She nodded, holding onto his finger for as long as he could stretch it before reluctantly parting from him, and heading through the crowd to stand alongside Kourtney and EJ.

Ricky did the same, worming his way through to find Nini, who was standing with Seb. His hand slinked around Nini’s neck, but his eyes were straight ahead, searching the crowd for the top of Gina’s head.

Carlos cleared his throat from the stage. “So, without further deliberation. Wow I can honestly say I’ve never felt more like Steve Harvey -- East High’s Belle of the Masquerade Ball, is --” he opened one of the envelopes, “Gina Porter!”

The crowd from the stage to where Gina was stood, frozen, opened up as if it was nothing, and, reluctantly, she pulled away from Kourtney and EJ and headed up onto the stage. Ricky stood on his tiptoes, struggling to get a view of her over the jostling heads, as they handed her the tiara. His effort to try and gain a glimpse of her was why -- when Carlos announced that the apparent Beast of the Masquerade Ball was none other than Ricky Bowen, he didn’t quite register it at first.

At least, not until Nini nudged him _hard_ in the ribs, her hands folded defensively across her chest, and then once more as she shoved him forwards into the crowd to go up onto the stage. Spotlights beamed down, blinding him from all angles. Never blind to Gina though. He could still see her, a dazed expression etched into her face.

Those same blinding spotlights were why he didn’t see Nini approach; why he didn’t see Nini clambered up the stage steps; why he didn’t see Nini snatch the crown from Gina’s hands. He did see her once, clear as day, when she stood forward on the stage, a microphone she’d managed to grapple from somewhere in her hands, when she announced suddenly -- “Hey guys, I don’t know if you know this, but _I_ know that these two are dating, and have been since the start of the year.”

He stood, frozen in the moment, beside Gina. Everything had just come crumbling down within an instant. He couldn’ think. He didn’t have time to. Everything was happening so quickly.

From ahead, still blind to it like a deer in headlights, came the shuffle of feet and awkward whispers. Then -- right from the back of the crowd, a giggle or two.

Over the speaker, he heard Nini huff, clearly frustrated. “Ricky’s been dating Gina for five months, whilst he’s been dating me at the same time.”

More awkward silence. Nobody was moving. Through the dark, with the most certainty he’d ever felt in his life, his hand found Gina’s, and, in a turn a burst of confidence. He took a hold of that too. It didn’t matter that people knew now. They’d been caught out red-handed.

Someone cleared their throat. Nini just stood there, her face draining of all colour. “Does anyone actually care?” Though he was certain her question was rhetoric, someone from the middle of the crowd yelled out -- “Nope.” Someone that sounded suspiciously like EJ. In fact, he knew it was EJ, because the comment was immediately followed by the warm giggle of someone who could only have been Kourtney.

With that confidence he’d managed to find earlier, Ricky stepped forward, and looked right at Nini. He didn’t need a microphone. His voice carried. “Neens, surely you knew this wasn’t going to last.” He took a deep breath in, and then -- “We’ve already broken up once, because after a whole year of dating I wasn’t even sure if I loved you. We barely even talk anymore. It’s not the same as how I can be with Gina.”

Now Nini just stood there, still as frozen, but paler and more lost than before. Ricky took the tiara from her hand, and rolled it between his fingers. “Gi, I know you probably want to say something, but this is _my_ mess to clear up. None of that responsibility falls to you.” He took a hold of her pinky finger. “Promise.”

“Promise.” She repeated, near silent. But it was enough.

He turned back. “Nini, everytime we were together, I would never be thinking about you. I’d always be thinking about when I was gonna see _Gina_ again. Even before then, last year, every time I would be hanging out with you, I’d be thinking about how different things could be if Gina had never left. Every time I’m with her, I just become this incoherent inoperable fool. It’s never felt like that with you. It’s always felt safe. Gina feels scary and new and it’s something I’ve never experienced before, but its something I can’t get enough of. As much as I am truly sorry for going behind your back about everything, I’m not sorry for the clandestine meetings, for the longing stares, for the stolen kisses. I’m not going to apologise for anything I’ve done with Gina because nothing has ever felt so innately _right_ before. And I’m certainly not going to apologise for this.”

He span around, and placed the tiara on Gina’s head. She looked at him through gentle eyes, and a soft smile, one that told him everything he need to know. She knew what he was about to do. Gina Porter could read him like an open book, pages bearing all. In that smile, where the corners of her lips quirked upwards so minutely, that he was sure that no one other than him would be able to translate. It was eager. She knew what was coming, as much as he did.

So -- there and then, without a care in the world, and knowing full well that all eyes were on them, Gina took a hold of his tie, and pulled his lips onto hers.


End file.
